Hello again It's me, Sophie
by Goldiva
Summary: Sophie Crowe is not having a good night. A visit from some SHIELD agents gets her drugged and shipped off to their base high in the sky. All things considered, it comes as a relief to see her old Professor's face, though the trouble has just begun. BBxOC
1. Chapter 1

I stared deeply into my mug of tea, watching the amber liquid lap against the cracked ceramic as I swirled it in my hands. It was cold now and the only warmth remaining came from my fingers which were wrapped so tightly about the circumference that my knuckles were white. My knee bounced like a live thing and a few dark flakes floated to the surface of the liquid and stuck to the stained ceramic. I frowned; it seemed it was time to get a new tea strainer. My frown deepened; my favorite tea store had gone out of business a few weeks ago. I'd probably have to drive into Richmond, which meant I'd probably have to finally get around to fixing my truck. Unless… perhaps I could bike there…

"Ms. Crowe?" A voice tempered with discipline and training broke through my scrambled thoughts and pulling me back into the cramped and cluttered disaster that was my living room. My eyes drifted over the boxes that lay strewn about, their contents scrawled on the side in my illegible scribble; they were left over from the move, things I simply hadn't found the time to put away yet. I'd lived in the apartment two years next Thursday.

"Ms. Crowe," prodded the voice, "This really is a matter of the utmost importance. It is critical that you listen to what I'm saying." My eyes flicked towards the owner of the voice, running from his gently worn leather shoes, up the impeccable crease in the charcoal pant leg of his suit and the sleek blue silk of his tie before finally resting on the even more intense blue of his gaze. It was only in his gaze that this man revealed his impatience; he was far too professional for it to show anywhere else. "Ms. Crowe-"

"It's Sophie, Agent Coulson. And I am not deaf," I stated, softening my clipped tone with a warm smile. There was the rough whisper of trouser legs rubbing together as the second agent shifted. I glanced briefly at his face and fought back a shiver; even though the sun had long since set he still wore sunglasses. It unnerved me that I couldn't see his eyes. Agent Coulson chuckled dryly, leaning back into the overstuffed cushions of my couch, allowing his arm to rest on a stack of clean laundry I had yet to transfer to my dresser.

"No, you're not, Sophie. Forgive me. And thank you once again for agreeing to meet with us this late." I glanced at the clock on the wall. Two thirty in the morning. They were damn lucky I was out of my sleeping pills; once I was under I was out for eight hours solid. "We thought that with your schedule and condition, this would possibly be more acceptable." I pursed my lips and took a brief sip of cold tea. It bothered me that some government agency was keeping tabs on my insomnia. It made me wonder what else they kept tabs on. "Sophie, we really need your help."

My brow furrowed. "And I'm afraid this is where you lost me. I'm a writer. I don't really know what use I could be to the Strategic Homeland… what was it again?"

"Just call us SHIELD," replied Coulson with a quirk of his lips, "It's less of a mouthful. And it's not your expertise that we're interested in."

"Then what's this about?" I asked, my eyes narrowing in suspicion. The teasing light in Coulson's eyes dimmed.

"Sophie, we've found Bruce Banner." The mug slipped from my slackened fingers and fell to the floor with a thud, washing my toes in chai. My brain seemed to slow down as I processed this information. They'd found Bruce. Bruce; who I hadn't had so much as a postcard from in over a year. And then I got angry.

"Fuck you," I spat, standing quickly so that I towered over Coulson who seemed a bit surprised, "Can't the government just leave him alone? He's been through enough. The man is not just some toy that big brother can manipulate!" I was pissed and it showed in my aggressive body language and the flush racing up my neck. Coulson easily got over his surprise at my vulgar choice of words.

"Please calm down, Sophie," he stated in his aggravatingly even tone, "I promise you Dr. Banner is with us of his own free will."

"Like hell he is," I growled, intimidating even in a t-shirt and boxers, "I'm sure he's completely fine with being caged up in some hole in the ground!" A smile twitched at Coulson's lips.

"In the sky, actually," he corrected me, smiling wider at the blank look that passed over my face, "And it's a lab. We'd like very much if you could join him. To keep him calm." I sank back down onto the cardboard box full of old manuscripts I was using as a chair.

"Not saying I believe you, Agent Coulson, because I don't, but haven't you tried Betty Ross? I'm sure she'd be far more effective at 'keeping him calm'." My lips pursed a bit at the mention of Professor Ross and my fingers interlaced almost of their own volition. Agent Coulson relaxed a bit as I sat down, the tension visibly fleeing his shoulders.

"We did, actually," replied Coulson with a small smile, "But that chapter of her life has closed down. She's Dr. Betty Ross-Johnson now and I am afraid that knowledge alone would have the opposite effect on Dr. Banner." I blinked, surprised. That was something I had not expected. I was sure she would spend the rest of her life pining away for the enigmatic Bruce Banner; like I was. "Sophie," Coulson entreated, "please. We really need your help in this." There was something about Coulson's eyes that almost made me agree; there was a certain openness, an honesty that drew me in and erased my suspicions. But one more look at the mountain of muscle standing stoically behind him and they returned _tout de suite_.

"I'm sorry, I can't," I said slowly. The opportunity to see Bruce again was tempting, but I was no fool. Maybe they didn't actually have Bruce and were planning on using me as leverage of some sort. The whole thing simply seemed fishy. "I'll escort you out." I stood and moved toward the door but Agent Coulson didn't so much as budge.

"That is not an option," he said slowly, his voice almost sad, "We have permission to use whatever means necessary to get you back to SHIELD." In other words: force. There was a moment where nobody moved and then it ended. Adrenaline raced through my veins as I sprinted towards my front door, my fingers clumsily fumbling with the lock in my haste. I managed to turn the stupid thing and open the door when I felt massive arms, like bands of iron, encircle my waist, pulling me back into the house.

"Gotcha!" the meathead chuckled, lifting me into the air.

"No!" I shrieked, thrashing and scratching at his arms with desperation to rival a drowning cat. Coulson was abruptly beside us, trying to calm me down.

"Please stop struggling," he pleaded, "You're only making this harder for yourself." I stared at him with wild eyes and let loose and enraged scream, sinking my teeth into meathead's forearm. He roared with pain and dropped me. I scrambled on the wood floor, practically hurling myself towards the door, when I felt something cool and metallic press against my neck. "I'm sorry," said Coulson, his tone genuine. There was a soft click and I gasped as I felt the familiar bite of a syringe.

"What-" But that was all I managed to get out before my vision was swallowed by blackness.


	2. Chapter 2

_It was the first day of class at Culver University and the sun had heated the auditorium to a nearly unbearable temperature. "The fucking AC's broken," I heard someone complain and couldn't help rolling my eyes. 'No shit, Sherlock,' I thought irritably, "Ain't no reason te git yer panties in a wad." I myself was in the hot zone; three rows from the front, as far as possible from the windows, the fluorescent lighting casting a glare on the slightly reflective paper of my cheap notebook. I softly chewed the end of my pen cap, staring blankly at the mess of mathematical formulas littering the board. If anyone had a right to be annoyed, it was me._

_At Culver there was a science requirement in order to graduate. I was awful at science. I found it fascinating, to be sure, but I really had no aptitude whatsoever, especially not anything involving complicated math. I had decided introductory Biology was probably my best bet at getting a passing grade, so imagine my surprise when my schedule came back with "Physics 103, 1-2:30, Monday, Wednesday, Friday, Professor Bruce Banner". Best I could figure, my advisor had misheard me. Maybe she thought I had been saying 'physics' when I was asking for 'basic' biology. It wouldn't have been the first time someone had misheard me. My manner of speaking tended to be slower and thicker than molasses in January. Goodness knows I got teased for it often enough._

_I was from way out in backwoods Virginia and, though the words stung, hillbilly and hick weren't totally incorrect descriptors. I was the first person in my family, ever, to pursue any form of higher learning. My kin thought I was crazy, and maybe I was, but as far as I was concerned there had to be more to life than marrying Clyde Green and bearing his babies. That was all that life in the small community of Red Skin Creek had promised me._

_I shook myself from my thoughts, trying to focus on Dr. Banner as he rambled on about kinematics. It was only the first class and most students seemed to find the topic fairly basic, but I was up the creek without a paddle. The equations and numbers swam before my eyes and it took me a moment to realize I was crying; how embarrassing. I wiped my eyes roughly on my sleeve and straightened my spine. I was being pathetic; Granddaddy Crowe had taught me to be made of sterner stuff than this. So I copied down everything Professor Banner wrote, not understanding any of it, and waited, hoped, prayed for the end of class to come. _

_As soon as we were dismissed I slipped past the pimply boy sitting beside me and rushed towards the front, coming to a stop a few feet from the wide oak desk. Professor Banner had his back to me, moving his eraser in wide circles over the white board to wipe out his handiwork. I fidgeted with the strap of my bag for a moment, nervous, before opening my lips. "Pardon me, Mister Banner, sir?" I drawled, my tone thick like tar._

_Banner paused in his ministrations, setting down the eraser and turning to face me with curious eyes. I blushed under his darkly intelligent gaze, feeling abruptly dowdy and small. "Yes?" he asked in his subdued voice, adjusting his glasses along the bridge of his nose. I looked down, collecting my thoughts, before once again raising my head, a fierce determination burning in my mind._

"_Professor Banner, sir, I was wonderin' if I might be able te git some extra help," I spoke, rushing through my words so that they blended together, "Ye see, I'm a bit lost…" I scratched my head as my face turned crimson, watching as the bright spark of interest in his eyes dulled a bit._

"_I see," Banner said slowly, rubbing his chin, "If you're struggling this early in the course, it's probably be wisest to drop it, Miss…?" _

"_Crowe," I filled in, my ears burning with shame, "Sophie Crowe. And I've already tried that. My advisor wouldn't let me." Banner's eyes widened a bit and he shifted, crossing his arms._

"_You're Sophie Crowe? This year's Bryan Anthony Scholar?" he asked, a bit incredulously. The Bryan Anthony Scholarship was a full-ride to Culver and rather prestigious, that he was surprised that I was a recipient was an insult that did not go unnoticed. My lips tightened with anger._

"_That is what my mama named me, Mister Banner," I growled, "Look. I know I'm country. I know I might not be the sharpest tool in the shed, but I ain't the dullest one neither. Now, maybe I didn't understand anythin the first time 'round, but I paid attention 'n took notes 'n now I am coming te ya fer assistance which is a hell of a lot more than any of those katty-wonkered idiots sleepin in the back've done. Now ya kin tell me iffn I've wasted my time but somehow I reckoned ya professors would have more respect fer educat'n than that." I waited for the surprised expression on Banner's face to change and felt my heart fall when it didn't. "I kin see now I was mistaken. Good day Mister Banner." _

_I turned to leave when I felt warm fingers gently grab my wrist. "Wait," said Banner with a chuckle, a gentle smile on his face, "No, I'm sorry. That was rude of me, I apologize." I eyed him suspiciously for a moment before sighing._

"_That's just fine, Mister Banner. Not like ya city folk know any better anyhow. Most of ye ain't learned ye yer manners yet." Banner's lips twitched and he released my arm, gesturing at my notebook._

"_How about you and I sit down and take a look at what you don't understand," he offered. I blinked._

"_Mister Banner, that's pretty much all of it."_

_Banner chuckled. "That's fine, I'm free all afternoon if you are." I looked once more into his open face and I couldn't help but smile._

I woke with a pounding head ache, augmented by the thrum of powerful engines and the force of cabin pressure crushing intimately against my skull. That and my general feeling of nausea clued me in to the fact that I was on a plane before I even opened my eyes. When I finally did I wished I had kept them closed; through the blurry film of sleep I could see meathead's chiseled mug grinning back at me. I gritted my teeth, wanting nothing more than to wipe that smug smile off of his face.

I tried to turn my neck to look about the cabin but the muscles burned from whatever they had drugged me with, so I settled for letting my eyes sweep as far as they could. The seats and everything else was pitch black, intimidating and swathed in Velcro; the plane was definitely military grade. The cabin jostled, no doubt due to turbulence, and my head screamed with agony. I grunted and pressed my fingers into my temples, hoping irrationally the additional pressure would make the discomfort go away.

I heard someone sit down behind me and blinked confused as manicured but masculine hands pressed a small plastic cup of bluish liquid into my hands. "Here," came Coulson's by now familiar voice, "Drink this. It will help with the pain." I stared at the cup, swirling the blue liquid with distaste and suspicion. 'Screw it,' I thought finally, bringing the small cup to my lips and knocking the medicine back like a shot. Whatever it was, it tasted vaguely of honey and was icy cold going down, lending my mind clarity and soothing the fire in my neck.

I coughed, wiping a few syrupy beads from my lips before returning the cup to Coulson's waiting hand. "Thanks," I rasped, my voice hoarse from screaming, "I don't suppose you can tell me where we are?" Coulson smiled thinly.

"Thirty-nine thousand feet up," he informed me, crushing the cup in his hand, "But beyond that I am not at liberty to disclose our location." I rolled my eyes.

"Great," I said with a huff, glancing down at hands in my lap. I frowned, picking at the light cotton fabric that covered me, dyed a dark blue and embroidered with red and orange flowers. "What's this?" I asked, tugging at the unfamiliar garment.

"A sundress," Coulson informed me with relish, "You'll want to look presentable. We tried to find something in your own closet but nothing seemed quite appropriate. I took the liberty of providing you with suitable attire." My fingers traced the neckline of the fitted bodice, blushing at how much cleavage was exposed. Though healthy and athletic, I was not a thin girl; I was full figured and this dress showed a scandalous amount of my bodacious bust line. My eyes narrowed at him.

"'I'll want to look presentable' or you want me to look like a hooker to keep Banner happy?" I growled out, to which Coulson only smiled. "Who put me in this stupid thing anyway?" I glanced over at meathead and found an overly smug expression lighting up his features. "Oh. Gross."

"Agent Monroe was very professional, Ms. Crowe," replied Coulson evenly, "And for the record, your make up looks too natural for you to be a hooker." I stared at him.

"You put make up on me too?" I asked incredulously. Coulson's reply was cut short by the crackle of an intercom.

"Take a seat and buckle up," came the commanding voice of the pilot, "We're beginning our descent." I blinked, my heart beat speeding up in my chest. Maybe now I could finally figure out what exactly was going on.

**Author's Note: **

**Thank you to Poplar-kat, Azura Soul Reaver, Hunter and Ali for reviewing. It means a lot to me and really makes the fan-fiction process worthwhile. To answer your questions Hunter, she really is just there to keep Bruce calm and there will be love… eventually. And no she does not have a power. After watching the Avenger's movie I really don't think they could handle another super-powered hero, they already have so many. :P Right, that about wraps it up. If you like it please, please, please review! **


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's Note:**

**Alright my pretties, here's chapter 3 as requested. A huge thank you to Crystal-Wolf-Guardian-967, , Azura Soul Reaver (Thanks for commenting again!), Mac n' Meez (Who writes wonderfully long review and has a rather excellent BrucexOC fanfic up as well by the by XD), aireagle92, Vodka Citron, LoverandaFighter, KrazyForYourLuv, caros24084u, HogwartsWonderland, Flarire, Spawn of Madness, Shippolove844, A, 9, MissingDreams, and of course my dear Poplar-Kat! It made me so happy to read all of your reviews! And Mac, I totally agree Bruce does not get enough love. Poor baby . Anyway, I hope y'all enjoy and if you'd like to see a picture sort of similar to what Sophie looks all prettified I posted one on my profile. It's not perfect but what really is in life anyway? I'll shut up now….**

**-Goldiva**

Touchdown was surprisingly smooth, though the straps of the harness securing me to my seat did bite into my skin as the plane decelerated and came to a stop. I wasted no time in pressing the button that released me from my restraints. Meathead, excuse me Agent Monroe, looked a little concerned I would bite him again and I chuckled, gnashing my teeth. "Very mature," he muttered, and I laughed, making as if to run a hand through my hair only to find it had been put up and arranged in some intricate braid. Yet another place someone had touched while I was unconscious. Awesome.

Rather than a door on the side opening, the entire back of the plane folded outwards, making a sort of gangway onto the asphalt. I didn't wait for Coulson to usher me forward, striding at my own pace out into the sun. The light blinded me for a moment and I lifted a hand, now manicured and glossed, to shield my face. The deck, for I realized we were on some sort of air craft carrier, was abuzz with activity. Men and women in skin tight navy jumpsuits scrambled about, checking on planes, filling up gasoline tanks, and other mostly maintenance duties.

A blast of air from one of the jets sent my skirt dancing around my legs and I had to fight to keep it down. When it finally laid flat I noticed a few men in jumpsuits staring at me, though they blushed and returned to their tasks when I caught them. I sighed, it wasn't as if I could blame them. It had probably been a while since they had seen a woman clothed in anything but a jumpsuit. "If you're done being Marilyn Monroe," grumped Meathead from behind me, "We do have places to be."

I spun to snap at him when something in the distance distracted me. About a hundred yards away I could see three figures dressed in plainclothes shaking hands and greeting each other. One was tall, blonde, and fit; you stereotypical American boy. The female had red hair and radiated no-nonsense, an aura of danger wrapped around her like a scarf. But neither could hold my attention quite like the third. He was an unimposing man in both demeanor and stature, his dark hair ruffled by plane exhaust as he rubbed the back of his neck. His suit was worn and faded, hanging a bit loosely from his frame as if he had recently lost weight, and his skin held warmth and color as if he had spent a decent amount of time in the sun. He looked tense and uncomfortable, but it was unmistakably him.

I couldn't believe it. My whole body clammed up as a single word dropped like a stone from my lips, "Bruce." All this time I had convinced myself I was being lied to, but now that I could actually see him I had to touch him; I had to hear his voice. Monroe made as if to shove me in the direction of what looked like a hangar door but I was already on the move before I even made the conscious decision to start running. My legs pumped like pistons as I sprinted towards him, the stupid, strappy feminine sandals the Agents had put on my feet coming apart at their flimsy soles and falling off my feet as they pounded against the asphalt. My delicately arranged hair flew free of its braids, the wild straw colored curls streaming out in a mane behind me as I ran.

I was only twenty yards away from wrapping my arms tightly about his neck when the ground beneath me moved. I heard the sound of powerful turbines kicking in and had just enough time to register that the ship would soon be airborne, but not enough time to steady myself. I threw my hands out to brace my body as I fell, but my momentum rolled me ten feet before I finally came to a stop. "Gol durn it!" I cursed, my heavy accent that I fought so hard to control flowing easily back into my speech along with the pain, "Ow!"

The turbines covered up my expletives and I sighed heavily, not bothering to move from where I lay sprawled out on the ground, covering my face with a forearm as if trying to shield my embarrassment from the world. "Well that went well," I muttered, unable to keep the angry blush from lighting my skin on fire.

"I'll say," answered a smoothly feminine voice. I lifted my arm from my eyes in shock, staring up at the controlled red curls that surrounded the woman's face.

"Ma'am, are you alright?" asked the tall man, his classically handsome face creased with concern. I scowled and sat up, gently prodding the deep scrapes on my palms and knees.

"I'd be a lot better if you didn't call me ma'am," I teased, pleased my injuries weren't as bad as I had initially believed, "It makes me feel so old. I'm twenty-five." He seemed a bit confused but moved aside at a subdued but insistent "Excuse me," from behind him. And finally, after three long years of waiting, I found myself staring up into the most welcome and familiar face in the world.

"Sophie?" he asked getting down on his knees, brow crinkling with puzzlement. I sat as still as a stone for a moment, not quite sure if I should let myself believe he was real, before I hurled myself at him, knocking him over onto the deck and landing on top of him. The two people still standing exchanged a nervous glance but I ignored them, burying my head into his chest with a vengeance. I breathed in deeply, trying to absorb as much of him in that instant as I could. He smelled of sun, spices, and soap and the combination nearly left me dizzy.

I was so overwhelmed it wasn't until Bruce started rubbing the small of my back that I realized I was crying. "Shhh," he murmured, using his other arm to hold me more tightly against him, "It's okay. You're okay." I gave a shuddery sigh, trying to stem my tears before I soaked his jack through.

"Sorry," I blubbered. Bruce laughed in response and I could feel the sound rumbling in his belly through my own. Carefully I peeled myself off of him and he sat up, using his thumb to wipe away my tears; I liked that he couldn't stop touching me. "Sophie, what are you doing here?" he asked quietly, his voice low and intimate.

"We brought her here," answered Coulson, appearing abruptly with an angry looking Monroe by his side, "We thought it'd be better for you to have a familiar face." Bruce smiled tightly, his eyes bitter.

"To keep me in line, is it?" he asked, his tone sharper than I'd heard it in a long time. Of course, it had been a long time since I had last heard it.

"To make you more comfortable, Dr. Banner," said the woman authoritatively, command dripping from her posture. I frowned; historically Bruce had never gotten along very well with military types. The thought of him being in a giant flying tin can crawling with the pests made me nervous to say the least. "Now if you'll follow me I think it's best we head inside." Banner's lips pursed and I could feel the tension build within him but he nodded, standing and brushing off his pants before reaching down to help me to my feet; He didn't let go of my hand even as we walked inside the hangar door and into the belly of the plane.


	4. Chapter 4

**Author's Note:**

**Alright my dears, here's Chapter 4! A heartfelt thanks to shippolove844, Azura Soul Reaver (I know. I actually really can't think of anything that would bug me more than getting drugged and dragged off to some secret government base… though if Banner was there it might be worth it), Twiloco, Poplar-kat (I'm glad I made you laugh. I always think those scenes in movies are so funny XD), Anon (Consider me fazed my friend :P), caros24084u (Hugs for you too my dear), Melbizz (Thanks love!), KrazyForYourLove (You're most welcome, thanks for reading!), Cotton Strings (I couldn't agree more. The man makes me melt.), Tinker178, Mac n' Meez (Respect. I do not have the dedication to type on my phone, that takes some serious skill. Also, there's another flashback in this chapter so I hope you like it), AngelVamp6688, and last but not least A (I hope this tides you over for your layover. It's not super long but it's what I could manage this afternoon.) Alright, that's all folks. Please enjoy!**

As we walked down the hall, going deeper and deeper into the core of the SHIELD flying base, my mind began to wander. The gentle hum of the electric lights and wires that threaded the walls blended with the rhythmic swinging of our entwined fingers, pulling me out of the present and back to my freshman year of college.

_The water was icy cold, but what else is one to expect for the middle of December? Honestly I was lucky the stupid stuff wasn't frozen solid. My teeth chattered as I reached into the frigid water, my fingers sifting patiently through the muck that had built up at the bottom of the fountain. The fountain was old, as old as Culver itself, and located smack-dab in the middle of the main quad. My fingers closed around a cold metal cylinder and I grunted happily, pulling my pen from the sludge. I rinsed it of thoroughly before wading to the side and setting it down next to a collection of my other things that I had found in the grime: a few sticks of chap stick, a bottle of my shampoo, my toothbrush, three of my favorite t-shirts that now boasted burn holes, my textbooks and notebooks, my wallet which had been emptied of everything except my ID card, and a few other odds and ends._

_Truth be told, I didn't own much, but absolutely all of it seemed to have ended up taking a swim. And that was how I found myself knee-deep in crud while other students jeered at me from the relative safety of their dormitory windows. I hummed tunelessly as I worked, locating another pen and my alarm clock. "What are you doing?" asked a faintly amused voice. I straightened stiffly and let the muck drip from my fingers and back into the water. I glanced over at Banner and smiled, sloshing my way over to him._

_His pants were wrinkled, his shirt only half-tucked in, and his thick winter sweater had the most hideous Christmas design I had ever seen but he still had the most charming smile on the planet. "What are you doing, Sophie?" he repeated, pulling down his red woolen scarf so that his warm breath clouded the air, "You'll get sick. And besides, shouldn't you be studying for your finals?" I laughed abashed, rinsing my hands off in the water._

"_Well, I am preparin Mister Banner, in a manner of speakin," I said jovially, "I ain't gonna be able ter do my testin without no pens, am I?" I showed him my latest find and set it down next to the others. His eyes scanned my things before coming to rest on the open cover of my physics text book. I rushed to close it, getting myself soaked in the process, but he had already seen the words "Go home hick" that some student had written in bright red permanent marker. I laughed nervously, waiting for him to say something, but he merely firmly took my arm and pulled me from the water._

"_Come on Sophie," he said, his voice gravelly with anger, "Let's get you warmed up." I collected my things and he led me back into the George T. Davenport Science Center, the gentle pressure of his hand against the small of my back propelling me forward. I dripped all the way to his office where I stood shivering, looking for all the world like a drowned cat, while he rummaged through the bottom drawer of one of his many file cabinets. _

"_Set your stuff down on the floor," he suggested over his shoulder as he began to pull things from the drawer. I complied, putting everything in a great, water-logged heap before straightening just in time to catch whatever it was that Banner was throwing at me. "Nice reaction time," he praised as I examined what turned out to be a pair of pants, a Culver University sweater and some threadbare boxers. "Sometimes I sleep at the office and don't have time to go home," he explained, "Now go change." I followed the gesture of his arm to a processed wood door, my slick fingers opening it with some difficulty. Inside was a small bathroom furnished with a toilet, a sink, and a mirror._

_Shyly I stepped inside and closed the door behind me with a soft click. I quickly peeled of my soiled clothes, letting the garments fall one after another into the sink until I was standing naked in front of the mirror. I stared at myself, running a hand along my side as goose pimples bubbled across my skin. "I'm so soft," I thought absently before slipping on the clothes Banner had lent me. The pants and boxers were tight in the hips and the sweater was baggy in the shoulders but they would do just fine for now._

_I stepped back out into his office and immediately was assailed by the hiss of boiling water and the tickling scent of a dark roast. "I made coffee," he said rather obviously, pulling two mugs from a different file cabinet, "Do you like milk?" I watched as he busied himself, his gaze never drifting upwards to meet mine. He was nervous, I realized, and I couldn't help but smile._

"_Ya'are very kind te me, Mister Banner, but if I'm makin ye feel uncomfortable I kin leave. No hard feelins." He looked startled for a moment and then chuckled, crossing the room to a small mini-fridge the color of cherry gloss. _

"_So you picked up on that did you?" he murmured ruefully, pulling out a carton of half and half before closing the mini-fridge firmly, "I keep forgetting what a clever girl you are." I wrinkled my nose._

"_Not clever," I protested, "I just use ma eyes'n'ears more'n most folk." I paused considering. "Still can't talk worth a damn though." _

"_Oh hush," scolded Banner, pulling the tab and letting the creamy white liquid flow from the carton into the mugs, "The way you speak is fine. It's a part of who you are." He finished pouring the cream and set the carton down on his desk, sinking heavily into his chair and leaning back to the point I thought he'd fall over. I sat down across from him and pursed my lips._

"_The point of language is communicatin Mister Banner," I informed him dryly, "And most folk can't understan none when I get to gabbin. I think that's a problem, don't ye?"The coffee pot beeped and Banner reached over, pouring the strong, hot liquid into both mugs before passing one to me. For a moment we sat in silence and simply sipped, letting the heat warm our chilled bodies._

"_Sophie who dumped your things in the fountain?" he asked finally, the anger barely contained in his dark eyes. I sighed, breathing in deeply to let the rich aroma of coffee fill my nose._

"_Chittlins wi' far too much time on their han's, I s'spec," I mused, taking another swallow of coffee, "What's that sayin'? Idle han's are the devil's workshop, innit?" I cracked a smile but Banner was not amused._

"_Sophie, If you don't tell me who it was I can't help you." His voice was serious and the concern exhibited in his face touched me._

"_Mister Bruce Banner!" I exclaimed with a tender smile, "Do I really and truly look that weak'n'helpless? I gotta hide harder 'n uh shell bark hickory. It gonna take a whole lot more 'n a few pranks n' unkind words to scramble my eggs, ye hear me? Now I am pleased as punch ter call ye my friend, Mister Banner, but sometimes a gal's gotta fight 'er own battles, don't she?" Banner stared at me for a moment before letting out a heartfelt laugh._

"_I suppose she does," he said when he finally calmed down, a smile splitting his warm face, "What a brave girl you are Sophie Crowe."_

"Watch your step," advised Bruce, yanking me back to the present. I narrowly avoided stubbing my bare toes against a low step, hopping up onto the higher level as we continued forward.

"Thanks," I said softly, relishing in the heat generated by our kissing palms, "My mind was… well, elsewhere."

"Not a problem," he replied with a soft smile. "It's really good to see you again Sophie," he continued after a while. I simply squeezed his hand but it was all of the answer he needed. "Your accent's gone," he noted after another moment. I nodded.

"Yeah, I got a language coach a year or two back. It's surprisingly difficult to beat the hillbilly out of one's tongue." Banner was silent a moment.

"I liked your accent," he said finally. I cast him a withering glance and was about to respond when we reached the brig and all speech was stolen from me.


	5. Chapter 5

**Author's Note:**

**Feeling a little under the weather but this is what I came up with. I hope it passes muster. A huge thanks to GRuth, AngelVamp6688, TeddyBearSunshineJoy54, whatsgucci, little miss michelle, Lokelani87, Gaia'schild, Ravenclaw Slytherin, hauntingwolf, Spawn of Madness, yesiamweird, BreezeIn MonochromeNight, BANEHiwatari, shippolove844, caros24084u, Cotton Strings, JessicaDwyer, MargaretRose14, Azura Soul Reaver, MelBizz, and Magic of Every Kind! To my fellow southern belles I would like to give y'all a warm greeting. I'm from Georgia myself and I love to experiment with writing out the dialects. Gaia'schild, I can't say I've ever actually seen that particular intern on Bones. I sort of fell off the wagon somewhere in season 3…. I know I'm terrible. You don't have to tell me. And Magic of Every Kind, I'll clear up the age gap for you here because it is going to take a few chapters to pop up in specifics. I'm thinking Bruce at the time of the story is either 36 or 37 years old, putting the age gap at 11 or 12 years. It's a big gap, I know, but my grandparents are 13 years apart and they've been together for 60 years now. So there is hope for Sophie and Bruce yet! That's all, folks. Please enjoy! **

**Edit- I made a few changes because people rightly complained Fury was OOC. Hopefully it's now fixed. My bad y'all, as I said I'm not feeling great today. But feel free to call me on things like that. It'll make the overall story more authentic. Thanks for your patience with me!**

The brig was incredible. An immense window looked out into the sky, revealing the tumultuous ocean below. Within the ship row upon row of personnel manned computers controlling every function of the ship and monitoring events around the globe spanned the ground floor and encircled us above. We stopped at a large round table constructed of expertly cut slabs of polished granite, carefully assembled into a stylized eagle, the symbol of SHIELD.

The agents and the pretty redhead fell easily into the plush, black leather seats, awaiting the command of a man with his back turned to us. I watched as lithe fingers easily skimmed along the control panels that surrounded him like a shroud. Bruce tensed up beside me and I hung back with him, squeezing his fingers firmly. "Impressive tech, huh Professor?" I whispered just loud enough for him to hear. Small talk was good; small talk would keep his mind off of things. Bruce apparently was able to sense what I was thinking because he smiled, squeezing my hand back.

"That's what a military funding gets you," he whispered back, his warm breath tickling my ear, "But it always comes at a price. Always."

"All systems running to satisfaction, sir," called a female SHIELD agent with dark hair.

"Thank you Agent Hill," rumbled the man before pressing one last button on his control panel and turning to face us. He was a tall man, strong despite age, with skin the color of coffee and a black patch over his left eye. "Captain Steve Rogers," he greeted the young man striding about the elevated platform on which we stood, casting a curious gaze about the room around us. My eyes widened and I chuckled softly.

"Oh wow," I muttered, capturing Banner's attention.

"What?" Bruce asked, turning his gaze away from the man to focus on me. I grinned mischievously.

"Captain America called me ma'am."

"Dr. Bruce Banner," called the man, impatience bleeding into his tone.

"Yes?" asked Banner, glancing up hurriedly, anxious to prevent conflict.

"If you and your lady friend aren't too busy I'd like to begin looking at the task at hand," said the man, his smile chilly. I extricated my hand from Bruce's and stepped forward, extending it for the man to shake.

"Sophie Crowe," I said, keeping my tone formal.

"I know who you are, Ms. Crowe," replied the man, clearly amused, "I was the one who sent Agent Coulson to collect you. You may call me Commander Fury. I am more than happy to have you with us; I only request that while aboard my ship you not cause any… unnecessary disturbances, though I don't expect an author to be much of a disciplinary problem."

"A New York Times best-selling author," I pointed out, my pride slightly wounded at being deemed so insignificant.

"No offense intended Ms. Crowe," said Steve Rogers from where he stood leaning against the railing, "But why exactly are you here?"

"We thought it prudent to bring along someone Banner knows and trusts," spoke up Coulson from where he sat at the table, "That way we can keep his environment more… stable during his stay."

"Speaking of," spoke up Bruce, an edge to his tone that I recognized as nervousness, "How long will I be aboard exactly?" Fury apparently recognized Bruce's trepidation and leveled his one-eyed gaze at him, speaking firmly but calmly.

"Your services are only required to locate the Tesseract," he said, "Once you've done that, you're free to go." I had no idea what a Tesseract was so I focused on what I could do and watched his face, searching for any sign of duplicity. Finding none I shrugged at Bruce who smiled grimly.

"And where exactly are you in that process?" asked Banner, sliding off his coat and rolling up his sleeves.

"We've been tracking cell-phones, PDAs, and anything else that gives off radiation but we've come up with nothing," answered an agent sitting at a computer slightly below us. Bruce's brow furrowed.

"Then you're going about it wrong. How many spectrometers do you have access to?"

"Why?" asked Fury suspiciously.

"Call ever lab you know and have them put their spectrometers on the roof, calibrated for Gamma Rays. It'll be a starting point and if the Tesseract comes into range we might get lucky. I'll need to start testing out alternatives in case that fails. Do you have somewhere for me to work?"

Fury smirked. "Agent Romanoff," he addressed the red-headed woman, "Please show the Doctor and his… assistant to the lab." I chuckled at his tone and took up the rear of the small party, turning the corner just in time to catch them turning a different corner.

She led us down a winding path towards the other end of the station before finally arriving at the lab. The room was walled in windows, though three sides opened up only to hallway. The third wall that opened up to the outside was blindingly bright so Agent Romanoff stepped forward, adjusting a small dial by the glass. Instantly a tint appeared and the lighting became more bearable. "If you want it darker simply turn the knob further to the right," she advised, "If you need anything, SHIELD agents can be reached by intercom," she explained gesturing towards a small glass panel mounted next to the door.

"Great," said Bruce, distracted by the plethora of state-of-the-art machines and instruments that surrounded him, "Thank-" But Agent Romanoff was already striding off down the hallway, her red hair bobbing perfectly as she went. Silence reigned for a moment before Bruce clapped his hands together, making me jump. "First things first," he said with a smile, beginning to rummage through cabinets.

"Yes?" I asked, craning my neck over his shoulder to see what exactly he was playing with. He released a small grunt of success and turned quickly, causing me to fall back in surprise, landing on my rear with an, 'oof'.

"Sorry," muttered Bruce, instantly repentant as he set whatever he had found down and eased me back to my feet.

"No harm done," I said with a grin, "As you were saying, Doctor?" He smiled and reached behind him, picking up a large metal box. I stared at it for a moment before finally realizing it was a first aid kit.

"Time to patch you up, Sophie Crowe," he said with a grin.


	6. Chapter 6

**Author's Note:**

**Alright guys, I feel like crap. I want to thank everyone who reviewed but I haven't had a chance to go through them all yet. So I'll thank you here and give a shout out next chapter. I'm not trying to ignore anyone, I've just got a fever, sore throat and head ache and all I want to do is sleep. Hope you guys enjoy.**

I hopped up onto one of the desk while Bruce slid his glasses onto the bridge of his nose and popped open the lid of the first aid kit, fishing around for some sort of antiseptic. I pulled at the hem of the airy dress, now ripped and torn from my tumble, and chuckled. "I must look a mess."

Bruce glanced up from his task and looked me over, his eyes linger a moment longer on my curves than a strictly disinterested male's would have. He quickly ducked his head again but I could see a bit of rose creeping into the flesh of his dusky cheeks. "I think you look great," he said flustered, "Minus the cuts and bruises of course." He kept searching and finally pulled out a few packets of hydrogen peroxide pads, placing them on the table beside my thigh. "You know," he mused as he deftly tore open one of the packets, "I'm not sure I've ever seen you in a dress."

"You haven't," I replied, pulling up the hem of the dress so that he would have better access to my bloody knees, "They put me in this stupid thing." He chuckled a moment before swearing under his breath and leaning closer to my knee. "What?" I asked curiously, trying to see what he saw.

"Your knees are cut to the bone," he said pensively, "Which mean this will probably hurt a good bit. And scar." I chuckled.

"Is that all? Professor, I grew up in the Appalachian Mountains climbing trees and catching critters with my bare hands for supper. Do you really think a scrape or two is going to make me faint?" Bruce shook his head ruefully.

"No I suppose not," he muttered, delicately beginning his ministrations to my knee. I admit it stung like a nest full of angry hornets but eventually the pain dulled to a small roar in the back of my mind as I watched him work. He had aged a great deal since I had last seen him. Worry lines now gently creased his forehead, joining the laugh lines around his eyes and mouth that had been present as long as I'd known him. There was a heaviness about his bearing that seemed at odds with my reserved but passionate friend, a heaviness that was surely the result of being chased and hounded like some sort of monster. Gingerly I reached out and teased the thin wisps of silver that had begun to gently pepper his temples.

"You're going gray, old man," I teased to which he simply smiled, shaking his head.

"I actually like them," he said, opening another packet and turning his attention to my other knee, "They make me look distinguished." I snorted and turned my head to look about the room, my eyes running over gently blinking and beeping panels and machines. I was quiet for a moment, worrying the plump part of my bottom lips between my teeth as I thought about how to phrase what I wanted to say. Banner paused, glancing up as he finally sensed my unrest. "What? What's wrong? Am I using too much pressure?" he asked, gesturing towards my wounds. I shook my head, leaning forward so that I could look him in the eye.

"Where have you been, Banner?" I asked, unable to keep the quiver from my voice, "You know, I really thought you were dead this time. I hoped you weren't, but after that post card you sent me..." I trailed off, my expression going dark as I remembered that horrible morning I had gotten his letter.

_The morning was cool, crisp. Perfect for Autumn even if it did make me shiver in my bathrobe and pajamas as I scurried out to the mailboxes. I wasn't sure whose bright idea it was to design an apartment building with the mailboxes outside, but they had; maybe that was why rent was so cheap. My toes crushed crisp leaves beneath them as I moved, leaving behind a trail of crimson, orange and gold flakes in my wake._

_I stopped in front of the panel of boxes, pulling the small brass key marked with the number 30 out of my pocket. My box was on the bottom row and I, being a woman of above average height, I had to crouch down very low to access it. I slid the key into the lock and opened it with some difficulty as the mechanism was stiff from the overnight chill._

_Reaching inside I pulled out a bundle of letters, sitting down on the cold concrete as I sifted through them. Bills, bills, letter from my editor no doubt telling me to hurry the hell up and finish my novel, bills, bills, red cross asking for donations, a flyer about lawn manicuring services for the yard I don't have, and a postcard. My fingers paused on the sleek laminated surface, setting the rest of the mail down beside me as I examined the picture. It was a rather indiscriminate picture of a rainforest, the lush green of the trees only marred by the presence of some shockingly yellow birds in the corner. I flipped it over and couldn't help but grin at the familiar almost mechanically neat and tiny print. "Hello Bruce," I murmured to myself, beginning to read._

_Sophie,_

_Congratulations on finally making the NYT best sellers list. I've read the book, and it's brilliant. Not that that I'd expect anything less, but well done all the same. I know it has been a while since I last wrote you, and I'm sorry, but things simply aren't working out. I've tried everything Sophie, really and truly I have but this is too much for me. I'm not strong enough. This will be the last time you hear from me and I just wanted you to know how much your friendship has meant to me all these years. You are so special to me Sophie, and it has been an honor and a privilege to have known you. I want you to have the box of my things you've been holding onto for me. I don't think I'll need them anymore. Toss them, sell them, or keep them it's up to you. Have a wonderful life, Sophie Crowe._

_-Bruce_

_I stared in shock at the letter, reading it again and again to make sure I hadn't made a mistake before slowly shuffling back into the building, not bother to pick up the rest of my mail from the sidewalk. I didn't leave my apartment for over a month afterwards. Not until my publisher came to check my pulse and make sure I was still alive._

"What kinda nut sends a su-i-cide note on a gol durn tropical postcard any-way?" I snapped at him, my face turning cherry red.

Bruce held up his hands in a peaceful gesture. "Sophie, you're upset-"

"With damn good reas'n!" I snarled, "Su-i-cide is fuckin upsettin!" I glared at him and jumped off of the table, striding angrily back and forth across the room as he watched me helplessly.

"Sophie-"

"There is nuthin," I growled furiously, "Would please me more thin ter hit ye righ' now." Bruce's lips twisted a bit in amusement.

"That is admittedly ill-advised," he murmured.

"I am aware," I hissed lowly, "Hence the pacin'." Bruce stood and walked over to me, taking my shoulders in his hands and forcing me to face him.

"It didn't work, Soph," he said roughly, "The other guy wouldn't... he wouldn't let me die." I stared at the pain in his face and I became very quiet as my emotions reached a fever pitch internally.

"Ye have ter promise me, Bruce," I said hoarsely, "Ye have ter promise that ye ain't NEVER gone put me through that ag'in." My eyes locked onto his, though his face was a little blurred from my tears. "Don' try it, don' ye even think 'bout tryin' it. 'Cus I ain't gone be able ter handle losin' yer twice."

"I promise," he said finally. I nearly laughed; he was one of those men who became completely overwhelmed at the sight of a woman in tears.

"Good," I sniffed, wiping my eyes for what seemed like the thirtieth time in a twenty-four hour period, "Then let's get back to work. It appears the cut on my knee has opened again."


	7. Chapter 7

**Still sick. Please enjoy. -Goldiva**

Bandaged and sutured I was ready to help Bruce in any way I could, though admittedly my expertise in the realm of gamma rays and radiation were sadly limited; mostly I ran around taking notes and changing calibrations on machines to his exact specifications. A couple hours into our work the sky swelled up like a giant purple blister and rain began to pelt the glass of the laboratory window, though it was so thick we couldn't hear it.

The atmosphere of the lab was peaceful. We didn't talk much outside of the odd quip but the silence wasn't awkward; on the contrary it was rather comfortable. I think we were both simply enjoying being in the presence of the other.

"Bruce," I asked finally, crossing my arms and leaning against one of the counters.

"Hmm?" he responded, not looking up from a screen across which information was flowing in a blur that made my eyes hurt.

"What exactly is this Tesseract you've been asked to find?"

"Apparently it's pure energy," he responded, pushing his glasses back up the bridge of his nose from where they had slipped, "Concentrated gamma in a cubic, crystalline form. It could power the whole earth for unlimited lifetimes and currently it's in the hands of a very dangerous man." Banner frowned. "At least I think he's a man."

My intuition flickered. "Is he Asgardian then? Like that character who destroyed that town out west last year?" Banner laughed, taking off his glasses and cleaning them surreptitiously.

"Sharp!" he chuckled, "But how did you know about that? I thought SHIELD kept things out of the press?"

"If you know how to sort out the garbage," I stated drolly, "Cheap magazines can be an excellent source of information." I had read them religiously over the years in the hopes of finding any tidbit on Banner and had developed a certain knack for discerning fact from fiction.

"You probably shouldn't spread around that your main sources of information are tabloids," teased Banner, earning him a gentle tap on the shoulder.

"I happen to be very well-read, thank you very much," I sniffed with false disdain. Though it was true; I devoured newspapers and books in general like a word junkie. "Professor," I asked after another moment, "Why do they want it?"

"What?" he asked confused.

"The cube," I clarified, "Why do they want the cube?" Banner laughed.

"It's a clean, unlimited energy source, Sophie," he said, casting me a teasing grin, "What's not to want?" Thunder rumbled in response to a flash of lightning I hadn't seen and I jumped a bit, startled.

"I'm serious, Bruce," I muttered, glaring at the amused crinkles around his eyes, "If the cu- Tesseract is as powerful as they claim it to be, are you really going to tell me they only want it as an energy source? Doesn't that seem a bit too, well, easy?" Bruce stared at me and I could practically see the pieces flying together in his head as his brow furrowed in thought.

"No," he said abruptly, shaking his head and focusing back on one of the screens, "No, no, no. I don't want to know." I stared at him, astounded.

"But-"

"No buts Sophie," he said glancing up at me firmly, "My job is to locate the cube and then I'm gone before they decide to lock me up or I go berserk and kill someone. End of story." He swallowed thickly and I realized how scared he was, of SHIELD but mostly of what he carried inside him. I didn't have the heart to challenge him.

"Alright," I said softly, retreating to my own side of the lab where I picked up the small digital pad and continued to scribble down data with my stylus. Not ten minutes had passed before I heard an odd rumbling from his end. "Was that your stomach?" I asked with a laugh, turning around for confirmation.

"Probably just thunder," Bruce murmured from where he was hunched over his work. I set down the electronic pad and walked closer to him, listening. The rumbling sounded again and this time I heard the distinctive gurgle.

"That was most definitely your stomach, Mr. Banner," I teased, "I don't want to pull you away so how's about I go rustle us up some dinner, hmm?" Bruce smiled.

"That sounds great." I pushed off from the desk and crossed the room. The glass panel slid open with a gentle whoosh and I stepped out into the hallway, pondering whether to go left or right. After a moment's deliberation I went left, knowing at the very least I'd find my way back to the brig and someone there could direct me. The lab turned out to be slightly warmer than the hall and I could feel the gooseflesh beginning to rise on my arms as I walked, my bare feet making gentle slapping noises against the floor.

I came to a fork and frowned before closing my eyes and taking a deep breath. "Yup," I exhaled, "Food is that way." I banked right, following my sense of smell until I located some SHIELD agents headed for the mess hall, and then I simply followed them. "Hey," came a masculine voice to my right. My head swiveled to find that a young SHIELD agent was matching pace at my side, a cocky grin on his tanned face. I studied his face for a moment, examining his sharp features and messy hair before letting my gaze fall to the lapel of his suit where a pair of stylized stainless steel wings were pinned. A pilot. How fitting.

"That was quite a tumble you took this morning, I'm glad to see you're okay," he said sincerely, his voice slicker than a tin roof in a rain storm.

"Thanks," I said, hiding my unease beneath a genial smile, "It wasn't that bad. Just a few scrapes." The agent laughed and the sound was so cultivated it made my hackles raise.

"You're tough," he complimented with a wink, "The name's Gabe Sterns, by the way." I absent-mindedly shook his outstretched hand.

"Sophie Crowe," I replied, allowing my senses to roam as we entered the mess hall. The mess was set up cafeteria style with a sea of tables and chairs to my right and food to my left and one quick glance at the collection of food told me it was going to be 'cafeteria style' as well. The tables were full, but the plates of the agents were essentially empty, leading to my suspicion that it was nearing the tail end of the dinner block.

"So tell me," asked Gabe as we collected a pair of trays and took our places at the end of the line, "How long have you been dating 'the monster'? Me and the boys aren't anxious for him to go all freak-show on us but we've heard it's a sight to behold." I glanced at him sharply, my distaste for him growing stronger the more time I spent in his odious presence.

"He's **not** a monster," I snapped, slamming my tray down with more force than necessary on the counter before softening my tone, "And we're just old friends."

"Jeez, chillax!" laughed Gabe, slapping my bare shoulder and lingering longer than he should have, "We agents like to shoot the breeze. No offense meant."

"Don't touch me," I muttered, moving down the line and trying to select foods that looked like they hadn't been deep-fried, freeze-dried, or come out of a can. "Hey!" called Gabe, moving up right next to me so that our bodies contacted all the way down, "Look, I'm sorry alright? Now do you mind taking that stick out of your ass so we can have a civil conversation?"

My eyes narrowed at him incredulously. "Who the hell do you think you are?" I asked irritably, "I don't know you, and I really don't care to, so back off." I studied the shock in his face and something dawned on me rather belatedly. He was probably considered exceedingly handsome, gorgeous even, and he almost definitely wasn't used to having women shut him down.

Gabe growled with what appeared to be a mixture of frustration and embarrassment, and cut the line, hurrying to put distance between us. "He's going to be trouble," I murmured thoughtfully, grabbing two seeded rolls from the basket with a pair of tongs. I continued down the line until I was satisfied that I had enough and then broke away, heading out of the mess, ignoring the glares I got from Gabe and his compatriots on the way.


	8. Chapter 8

**Author's Note:**

**Feeling a little better today. Yesterday I was pretty much comatose (cold medicine does that to me) so sorry about not updating. I personally enjoy this chapter, so hopefully it will atleast partially make up for it? Maybe? Anyway, a humongous STUPENDOUS thank you to my readers and well-wishers GRuth, TwiLoco, CreamedSunshine, HogwartsWonderland, Azura Soul Reaver, ujemaima, BreezeInMonochromeNight, caros24084u, Hakumei29, CelticGirl7, little miss michelle, Mac n' Meez, Cotton Strings, A, JR Cloud, AngelVamp6688, KrazyForYourLuv, MelBizz, Crescentrax, snowspell, Ravenclaw Slytherin, shippolove844, The Wicked That Mourns Just, kaflute14, Dragonruler334, Spawn of Madness, Night-Weaver369, Insanity's Bitch, Australia, Lokelani87, The Saintlike Weasley, ReannaExplosion, Anna, Alc Fluteo, I'mSexyAndYouKnowItGlitch, EvilPurpleCookiePenkeyMonguin, Miss Margarine, LauRa-ReaDinG-XoX, Mew of Fire, Sherrie H and Opera123. Phew! Hopefully I got everybody (And if you reviewed more than once a super special thank you, by the way). Alright, so please, sit back, relax, and enjoy chapter 8!**

_My feet tapped lightly on the stairs as I climbed towards the top floor of the science center, my arms laden with a bag of food I'd snagged from the dining hall. It was Friday and like I had for the past two years, I was headed to eat lunch with Professor Banner. After first semester freshman year, although I did end up getting an A- in the course, I decided I wasn't likely to take another science class, at least not in the field of advanced Physics. So Banner, who I had grown rather attached to during our numerous tutoring sessions, had suggested that we schedule lunch once a week; a suggestion we kept to rather religiously._

_I moved down the hallway, shifting things around in the bag and making sure I had remembered to grab forks and napkins. "Mister Banner," I drawled, knocking once on his door before turning the knob and stepping inside, "It's Mexican day in the dinin hall and I weren't sure if'n you'd wanna bur-ee-to, a tac-uh or a que-si-dill-uh so I jus' grabbed all thre-" The words died in my mouth as I finally looked up and registered the scene before me._

_Professor Banner lay sprawled across his desk, his papers and pens displaced and scattered across the floor below. His shirt had been torn open, one of the buttons now rested next to my foot, exposing the thick dark hair on his naked torso. A woman, Professor Ross of Cell Biology, was straddling him wearing nothing but flimsy lace lingerie and stiletto heels, her own silky blouse and pencil skirt discarded on the carpet; her ivory skin flushed with passion. It really didn't take a physicist to understand what they were doing._

_Their eyes widened as we looked at each other, their expressions similar to that of a deer when faced with an oncoming car. "Sorry," I managed slowly, "Didn' mean ter intrude er nothin'." Both Professors looked like they were struggling to find something appropriate to say but they were coming up empty. "I'll jus be leavin' now." I backed out of Banner's office and closed the door behind me, shuffling numbly off down the hall._

_It wasn't that shocking, I consoled myself; after all I was already twenty, it wasn't as if I hadn't seen nudity before. And yet… and yet for some inexplicable reason I was upset beyond words. It felt like someone had taken a hammer and had driven a thousand nails into my chest in rapid succession. I stumbled out of the building and made it to a tree before collapsing and trying to focus on my breathing._

_After a while my heart rate slowed back to normal and my stomach started to growl. I moved so that my back was flush against the truck and pulled a bottle of ice tea from the bag, undoing the cap with a crack and taking a long swig. I scowled a bit; it was so weak it amazed me they were even allowed to call it tea. Reaching back in the bag I pulled out half of the burrito and took a massive bite, chewing with vigor as I looked up at the wispy white clouds._

_I heard the solid thunk of the heavy science center door swinging open and closed and glanced over my shoulder. Professor Banner was walking towards me, embarrassment and chagrin apparent on his features. His shirt was buttoned again, though admittedly mis-buttoned, and his trousers had found their way onto his legs. Apparently he had not had time for shoes. I watched pensively as he approached, noticing that the tightness from earlier had once again started to build in my chest. Maybe I was coming down with something?_

_He stood there awkwardly for a moment, rubbing the back of his neck and refusing to make eye contact. "Mister Banner?" I prompted. He looked at me and I could tell there was nothing he would rather be doing than having this conversation with me right now._

"_I'm sorry you had to see that Sophie," he said hurriedly, "It completely slipped my mind that today was Friday and then Betty stopped by for coffee-" I laughed, which caught Banner off-guard. "What's so funny?"_

"_Mister Banner," I drawled, "Don't git yer boxers in a bunch. You don' have ter 'xplain nuthin ter me. Yer entitled ter a pers'nal life, same as other folk."Bruce laughed once dryly and without humor._

"_No," he said shaking his head, "No I do have to explain. It's unprofessional for me to pursue romantic endeavors on university grounds and I-"_

"_Are ye worried Imma go gabbin' all 'round school?" I interrupted, insulted, "Cuz I ain't! I wouldn' do nuthin' ter hurt ye none Mister Banner!" Heat blistered my skin and I was sure my face was flushed with irritation as I glared up at him, my fingers tightening around the neck of the bottle of ice tea. "Now git back in thur befer yer lady gives ye hell." Banner stared at me for a moment, saying nothing, before folding himself neatly down onto the grass beside me. _

"_No point now," he said, reaching for the bag, "She already left. Besides, my Fridays belong to you Sophie Crowe." I scowled, pulling the bag out of the range of his arms._

"_Yer tryin' ter placate me, Mister Banner," I scolded him, "I'm grown; I don't need no coddlin'. Now git yer sorry arse back in thur and make good wit'cher missus!" Banner cocked an eyebrow._

"_Sophie," he said very seriously, "I am not leaving until I'm full. So would you be so kind as to please give me the stupid burrito?" He beckoned towards the bag with expectant fingers. I studied him a moment before reaching inside the rough brown paper and slapping the other half in his hands. We were quieter than usual that day, but somehow it didn't matter. I simply found myself thinking how wonderful it was that he had stayed._

The sound of heavy footsteps knocked me from my reverie. I stared wide eyed as what seemed like an entire squadron of agents armed to the teeth marched down the hall towards me. They were in cubic formation around a man clad in vaguely norse attire and a pair of the heaviest duty handcuffs I had ever seen. He was as pale as the belly of a trout, with eyes of quicksilver and hair as dark and sleek as a raven's wing; he didn't feel human. There wasn't a doubt in my mind that this was the man who had stolen the Tesseract; this was the reason why Bruce was here, why I was here.

"Out of the way!" shouted Monroe irritably. I rushed to squeeze against the wall but apparently I didn't move fast enough because Meathead knocked right into me, spilling the tray of food all along the front of my dress. I stood there is shock for a moment as the metal tray clattered against the floor and hot soup seeped onto my skin.

"Bastard," I muttered too quietly for anyone to hear, attempting to brush peas, corn and noodles off of my thighs.

"I quite agree," came a voice as cold and clear as spring water. My head shot up and my gaze connected with the prisoner's. He smiled at me, but the expression was void of any warmth and just a tad crazy. "It's hardly proper behavior for a government agent, Mr. Monroe," he tutted, a smirk on his thin lips, "And such an injustice against a lady no less! Well that does make you seem rather petty, doesn't it?"

"Can it, Loki," snapped Monroe, jerking the chain that attached to Loki's handcuff roughly, "You'll have a lifetime behind bars to talk shit, but for now keep your mouth closed or I'll cut out your tongue and choke you with it."

"Ooh!" purred Loki, "You're angry! Let me guess… I've killed some pathetic friend of yours haven't I? Who was it then? Girlfriend? Mentor? Oh no, I know!" A chesire grin sliced across his features as madness danced in Loki's eyes, "How about your twin brother, Agent Monroe? How's his health of late?" Meathead looked like he wanted to rip the Asgardian's throat out but one of the other agents restrained him. Meathead glowered but relaxed, tugging on the chair with more force than necessary.

"Get moving, asshole," he growled, the agents beginning once again to march down the hall. I stared wide-eyed as they passed and Loki winked at me.

"Don't look so sad, kitten," he called, "I promise that we'll be seeing each other again very, very soon." My eyes narrowed; what the hell did that mean? Before they turned the corner he blew a kiss at me over his shoulder and I felt something cold settle in my chest. After a moment of panic the feeling passed and I looked down at the mess that now sauced the floor of the hallway.

"Well shit," I muttered, grabbing the two bottles of apple juice and the rolls; which seemed to be the only food items that were still edible. When I eventually walked into the lab, Bruce straightened from his work, concern crossing his features.

"What happened to you?" he asked in shock, wiping a bit of sauce off of my shoulder. I shook my head, putting the juice and rolls in his hands.

"It doesn't matter. Sorry it's not much but, as you can see, the rest took a tumble." I turned back towards the door and started to stride out.

"Sophie!" protested Banner, "Where are you going now?"

"To clean up the mess," I answered simply. I found the tray again easily enough and after that it was a simple thing to locate a closet and obtain the appropriated supplies. I scooped up all of the solid food and put it in a bag, tying it off to be disposed of later. I was halfway through mopping up the soup when a woman with red hair caught sight of me and started to stride briskly in my direction.

"What are you doing?" she asked, confused.

"It's good to see you again Agent Romanoff," I greeted her, dunking the mop once again in the bucket of now grimy cleaning solution.

"Ms. Crowe," she greeted me brusquely, "What happened to you?" A small smile lit my lips.

"Some charitable soul took the time to give me a fashion lesson," I joked. When her expression did not so much as flicker my spirit sank a bit. "Get it? Because I'm wearing my dinner?" Natasha stared at me critically and then snorted, taking my arm.

"Let's go get you cleaned up."

"But the mess-"

"Cleaning is not your function aboard this vessel, Ms. Crowe. SHIELD has other personnel on payroll for that task. Now please come this way."

I chuckled at her tone. "Yes ma'am!"


	9. Chapter 9

**Alrighty my dears, here goes Chapter 9! And I'm apologizing in advance. I personally think Tony Stark's character is a little off but I did try really hard. If anyone has advice I'd love to hear it. Thank you to MelBizz, AngelVamp6688, Jessica Dwyer, Ravenclaw Slytherin, whatsgucci, little miss michelle, Manny Maarie, MustangLover97, Pein's Kid, MiraKira98, SM, Miss Margarine, ujemaima, Hakumei29, allonsy-doctor, thegirlwhowaited411, Ohana13, Opera123, Jess8509, Natulcien, the house of the rising sun, SilverShadow3, CelticGirl7, caros24084u, Azura Soul Reaver, snowspell and Storiesof Something for reviewing. It really means a lot to me and your guys never fail to put a smile on my face! I am also so incredibly pleased that you like Sophie. I like her a lot as well. That's enough blathering on my part, please enjoy!**

The water in the shower was scalding hot and welcome as I stepped into the spray, scrubbing down my skin though careful of smearing my makeup. I worked quickly, sudsing my torso, arms and legs until there were no traces of goo left. Finished, I turned off the water and wrapped my body in a towel before stepping out into the steam filled bathroom. I was now faced with a dilemma; the dress, which thanks to Agents Coulson and Meathead was the only form of clothing I had, was now completely soiled. So my options were go out naked as the day I was born or in a dress that stank of peas and chicken noodle soup.

A sharp knock sounded on the bathroom door and I walked quickly over to turn the lock. Agent Romanoff barged in with all of the authority I had come to expect, a satisfied smile on her plump lips. "These are for you," she said proudly, handing me a fresh pair of underwear and one of the SHIELD jumpsuits, "I grabbed it from one of the storage rooms. It's a spare, so I'm not sure of the exact size-"

"Thank you," I said sincerely, accepting the gift, "I'll make it work." This was of course easier said than done. The suit was cut, as all of the suits seemed to be, for a woman with a more modestly sized derriere and thighs and frankly I looked obscene. The leather was plastered so tightly to my skin that it appeared almost like I wasn't wearing any clothing at all, and not in an attractive way. Despite my misgivings about the fit of the bottom, it was nothing compared to the top.

I slid comfortably into the shoulders but as soon as I attempted to use the zipper I realized I was going to have major issues. "Uh, Agent Romanoff?" I called, yanking in vain at the small metal tab.

"Yes?"

"I'm, uh, having some difficulties here." I heard the door open and turned to face her, blushing a bit as her eyes went wide. My breasts were overflowing, no erupting out of the front of the suit and I wasn't sure we were going to be able to contain them.

"Wow," she said eventually, "Huh, well, what if you sort of, you know, squeeze them in and I zip?" I happily tried her suggestion but as I had expected, it was not successful. "Yeah this is not going to work," said Romanoff, rubbing the back of her neck, "Honestly, you give totally new meaning to 'my cup runneth over'." Her brow furrowed in thought before she snapped her fingers and ran back out into her room. Moments later she returned with a black tank top. "We'll just treat the suit as pants, tie the sleeves around your hips, and you can wear this."

"Sounds great," I agreed heartily before biting my lip, "I don't suppose you've got some sort of bra I could borrow as well?" Agent Romanoff simply laughed, tossing the tank top at me.

"That's funny. Really. Now hurry up, we're expected on the brig." I sighed, securing the sleeves of the suit and tugging on the tank top. I knew some women who were comfortable walking around without support, but after you reached a certain point it just got awkward and painful. I was not looking forward to wobbling in the wind.

Nevertheless, I followed Agent Romanoff out of her quarters and through the halls, my new found, two sizes too large, SHIELD issue combat boots making clomping noises as we walked. The discussion had apparently already begun by the time we made it to the brig. Agent Romanoff and I slid into the first available seats at the conference table as quietly as possible so as not to interrupt the enormously muscular and chiseled man who was speaking. He paused in his speech, eying the both of us with interest to the point that I crossed my arms over my chest self-consciously.

"Thor?" prompted Fury, cocking the brow above his good eye.

"I apologize," rumbled the man, "It pleases me that women are able to partake in your battles. We too have female warriors known as the Valkyrie. They are a most valuable asset to my father during times of war." I frowned at his stilted speech, wondering where I had heard it before. Abruptly it clicked; his mannerisms were similar to that other one, Loki.

"My Agents are more than capable regardless of sex, age, religion or sexual orientation," replied Fury with what seemed almost like paternal pride.

"For the record," spoke up Banner from somewhere behind me, coming forward to rest his arms on the back of my chair, "This one won't be fighting anybody." His tone was casual but there was an unmistakable edge of challenge to his words that made Fury sit up a little.

"Neither Ms. Crowe nor you Dr. Banner are required for combat. Once you locate the Tesseract you're both free to leave, as promised." Bruce chuckled darkly, twirling his glasses in his hand.

"I suppose I should count myself lucky that there's no more room at the inn." I frowned, craning my neck p at him to make eye contact.

"What?" I asked confused.

"SHIELD, in their infinite hospitality, built a cage to… keep me in line."

I frowned deeply before it clicked. "And now that's where they're keeping tall, dark and psycho, isn't it?" Thor's face became craggy with anger, the lines around his mouth deepening to the point that they looked like they had been carved there.

"Watch your tongue, maid," warned Thor, the air around him seeming to crackle with intensity, "Loki may be mistaken in what he has done but you will treat a member of the house of Odin with their due respect. Is that understood?" My eyes widened a bit at his menacing tone, my throat going a little dry. There was no doubt in my mind that this was a very dangerous man to make angry. Of course, it was really dangerous to make the man standing protectively behind me angry as well.

"Is that a threat?" asked Banner quietly, his voice holding all of the danger of an atomic bomb about to go off.

"Thor-" "Bruce-" Fury and I protested in unison, trying to intervene before things got any further.

"Tony!" exclaimed an unfamiliar voice. We all turned to stare at the new comer, but he didn't seem to mind; in fact he reveled in the attention. "What?" he asked, a broad, white smile splitting his tan face, "Everyone was shouting names so I figured I'd join in. Excellent plane by the way Fury, though it is impossible to find a bathroom." I marveled at the man's cheeky tone and the cocky swagger of his gait but a blue light glowing through his t-shirt distracted me from my analysis.

"Mr. Stark," growled Fury, sinking back into his seat with heavy dignity. I blinked; that would explain the light in his chest.

"Fury! You're looking…" Tony trailed off at Fury's expression, frowning a little, "Well quite frankly rather grumpy."

"Sorry to interrupt," spoke up Rogers from where he sat across the table from me, "But I don't really think this is the place for small talk Mr. Stark. We don't have the luxury of wasting time." Tony stroked his impeccably neat goatee, cocking a dark eyebrow.

"Tell me, Captain, are you always such a bundle of sunshine? I'm almost scared you'll start spitting rainbows."

"That's enough Mr. Stark, we have serious matters to discuss," warned Fury, staring him down with his one good eye.

"My brother intends to use the Tesseract to open up a sort or portal," rumbled Thor, "There exists, or so he claims, an army of beings known as the Chitauri prepared to lay siege to Midgard at my brother's whim. They will ravage everything in their path."

"And there's no reason to doubt the word of a man mythology has named 'the king of lies'?" teased Stark with a chipper grin that earned him a murderous glare from Thor, "Joking. Joking." He turned a bit and waltzed over to the control panels, waving his hand lightly over the sleek surface without actually making contact.

"How does Loki plan on utilizing the Tesseract from within a steel trap?" asked Rogers, leveling the question at Thor. While everyone's attention turned to the brutish Viking my gaze was trained on Tony. I watched as he quickly placed an inconspicuously small device on the side of Fury's control panel; a bug maybe?

"He clearly has men still on the outside, Captain Obvious," stated Tony dryly, turning to face the group once again and earning a heated glare from Rogers; who was now a little flushed.

"Yes," confirmed Fury, "A scientist and one of our own I'm afraid, a Dr. Erik Selvig."

"Selvig!" exclaimed Thor surprised.

"Dr. Selvig was working on the Tesseract project before his mind was hijacked," informed Agent Romanoff, her voice as aloof as her expression.

"He's also a friend," growled Thor, eying her levelly.

"Regardless," mused Banner from behind me, letting his glasses swing freely in his fingers, "What you're proposing is… difficult even theoretically. He'd have to heat the Tesseract up to thousands, no tens of thousands of degrees Kelvin. And with the Tesseract already essentially pure energy… well, that cube's more unstable than I am."

"Finally!" cried Stark, throwing up his hands and startling everyone, "Dr. Bruce Banner," he said, striding over and vigorously shaking Bruce's hand, "What a pleasure it is to meet you! You know, your work is unparalleled."

Bruce laughed nervously, overwhelmed by Stark's boisterous personality. "Yes, well, anti-electrons are a field often overlooked."

"Ah. No. I was referring to you, you know, getting angry and morphing into a giant green rage monster," Tony chuckled with another trademark smile. Banner looked a little stunned and simply nodded in response when Stark's dark gaze fell to my face. "Ah! Of course, the Doctor's beautiful lab assistant. What's your name gorgeous?" I opened my mouth to speak but Tony closed it with two fingers. "No, wait, don't tell me. Rachel… no… Penelo- no… Berth-Barba-Bett-Betty? Betty!" I could feel the muscles in my jaw beginning to spasm with annoyance. There was no way I was going to be compared with that woman.

"Sophie," I said flatly, fixing Tony with a look that could have tanned leather. Tony chuckled.

"I'll be sure to remember that. Now, Fury my love, I can't help but feel that my exceedingly valuable time would be better spent in the lab-"

"Go!" sighed Fury wearily, rubbing his temples as if trying to massage Tony Stark out of existence.


	10. Chapter 10

**Here you go guys. I know it's short and fillery but I'm tired and this is the best I got. The next one will be better I promise. Thanks to everyone who reviewed. I'm off to bed. Ciao Bellas, enjoy!**

It did not take me long after we had returned to the lab for me to realize that I was completely out of my depth. At first I did try to help out but Tony made it clear I was just in the way; and while Banner was too kind to say it explicitly, I was certain he was also of a mind that three was too many cooks to have in a kitchen. So I hung back, dragging a stool over to the window so that I could watch the water. It was completely dark except for when the occasional bolt of lightning split the sky. And then the ocean was illuminated, revealing waves angrily crashing into one another, as if fighting for their lives to come out on top, as far as the eyes could see before once again falling into darkness.

I leaned my forehead against the cool glass, feeling exhausted and wishing more than anything that sleep would overtake my racing mind. But it didn't and more importantly it wouldn't as long as I didn't have my sleep meds. Sighing heavily I lifted my head to study the two brilliant men as they went about their work. Personality wise they were as polar opposite as two human beings can be. Where Tony was loud Bruce sometimes had to fight to be heard, where Tony was lighthearted Bruce was serious, and yet in their work ethic and their passion for science and discovery they appeared as equals.

I nearly laughed as, in perfect unison, they stood from examining their respective data readings and frowned, rubbing the area under their noses quickly and furrowing their brows. As the night dragged on I split my attention between the scientists and the window, the comfortable silence only broken by the occasional question and, usually, numerical answer. Eventually, however, I noticed that Banner started taking off his glasses and rubbing the bridge of his nose with greater and greater frequency. That was a mannerism I knew all too well.

Standing, I walked over to him and gently took his arm. "You need to rest," I told him firmly.

"I'm fine, Sophie," mumbled Banner, refusing to look away from the readings on the screen in front of him. I sighed, suppressing the urge to roll my eyes.

"No, you're not. You only rub your nose like that when you're exhausted."

"I do no-" began Banner before stopping when he caught himself in the middle of sliding his glasses off.

"You haven't slept in what? Over 48 hours? It won't kill you to go take a nap." I prodded, casting a glance in Tony's direction.

"I'm a big boy, Doc," called Stark nibbling on the end of a stylus, "I can hold down the fort if you need a break." Banner frowned.

"But the Tesseract-"

"Can wait a couple hours," I interrupted. The look in his eyes was so stubborn I knew he wasn't going to budge; I was going to have to play dirty.

"If you don't sleep then your susceptibility to irritation, anger, stress and nervous breakdowns all rise. Where will that leave us if you lose control, Bruce?" Bruce looked like he wanted to argue but slowly his shoulders slumped as he saw the strength of my logic.

"Fine, but only for a little while," he murmured. I smiled, patting his stubbly cheek.

"That's all I ask," I replied, feeling immensely satisfied. Banner walked over to the intercom and called an agent to take him somewhere he could lay down. "Sweet dreams," I whispered in his ear with a grin, earning a soft blush before the young man arrived and he followed the agent out of the lab. "I swear," I muttered, mainly to myself, "Once that man gets started on something even food is secondary." I thought back to when Bruce first started seriously experimenting with Gamma radiation. It had been impossible for me to pry him from the lab so every single day for almost my entire junior year I had brought him three square meals and fresh clothes I snagged from his office. He was so incredibly focused there was no doubt in my mind that without me the man would have died. I shook my head; he probably would have preferred that to his current situation.

Stretching absently I returned to my stool by the window, perching on the now cold metal seat. "Aren't you going to join him?" called Tony from across the room.

"No point," I replied, yawning, "I wouldn't get to sleep anyway." Tony didn't reply; he was too engrossed fiddling with some machine he had brought along and was now jury-rigging to the main systems. I let my eyes drift closed, letting my pulse match the slow rumble of thunder outside the ship and listening to the sound of Tony work. And then there was silence. I frowned, cracking open one eye and nearly toppling off of my stool in surprise. Tony was seated a few feet in front of me on a stool of his own, a mischievous lilt to his lips.

"W-what are you doing?" I asked, managing to steady myself, "Don't you need to monitor everything?"

"Jarvis has got it handled," replied Tony smoothly. I frowned, who the hell was Jarvis? "I'm more interested in you, Sophie Crowe, New York Times Best Selling Author, Culver university graduate class of 2009, and Pulitzer Prize nominee 2011 for fiction. You were robbed by the way. What they saw in 'A Visit from the Goon Squad' I will never know." I stared at him.

"Did you google me?" I asked incredulously, "When could you possibly have had time to do background check?"

"I'm good at multi-tasking," he said with a wicked grin, "And you really should get around to paying your cable bill." I scowled at him.

"I don't watch TV." Growing up Mama Crowe had always told me moving pictures were the work of the devil. I guess it sort of stuck, though I did enjoy the occasional movie.

"That I did not know," admitted Tony, "I'll make a note of it. But in the meantime Sophles, I think it's time we have a heart to heart."


	11. Chapter 11

**Here you go, Chapter 10. I like Tony more in this one, but maybe that's just me. Anyway, huge thanks to BreezeInMonochromeNight, MelBizz, little miss michelle, BANEHiwatari, Mew of Fire, GRuth, Crescentrax, Sherrie H, Night0-Weaver369, Currentlyanon (sorry about the Kelvin thing. I'll change that asap), FanFicPhanatic2010, Hope and Love, Nelle07, Ravenclaw Slytherin, Spawn of Madness, amrawo, Australia, Manny Maarie, musicluver17, LauRa-ReaDinG-XoX, Starpossum, Miss Margarine, Hakumei29, ujemaima, insanity's bitch, cotton strings, Azura Soul Reaver, shippolove844, PurpleHaze09, caros24084u, whatsgucci, and kaflute14. I know I have a lot of build up, but eventually Banner and Sophie will have their moment, I promise. For now, please be satisfied with Tony. XD Yup, yup! Hope you guys enjoy!**

"So what's your story, doll face?" asked Stark after I was silent for a moment. My eyebrows slowly inched up my forehead.

"Story?"

"Mhm," affirmed Stark, pulling some sort of candy bar from his pocket and taking a large bite, "Oo ow, ih oo n anna." (You know, with you and Banner). I pursed my lips.

"Didn't your momma ever tell you it's rude to talk with your mouth full?" I asked, crossing my legs and creating a squeaking noise as the leather of my pants stuck to the thin plastic coating of the chair.

"My _momma_," he said after swallowing, mocking the twang that had crept into my voice without my knowledge, "left most of my childhood years to nursemaids and private tutors. But that's not the point, is it? You're evading my question." I narrowed my eyes at him.

"Mr. Stark," I said frostily, "I am afraid I don't know you well enough to merit these personal inquiries."

Tony's smile was predatory. "Personal is it? Then there is something going on between you two... Banner you dog!" My skin flushed from the roots of my hair all the way down to the tips of my toes.

"There's nothing going on Mr. Stark," I growled irritably, glaring out the window. Tony cocked an eloquent brow.

"Uh huh," he said, taking another giant bite of candy bar, "I on elie oo. Oo-r ein eri adi." (I don't believe you. You're being very shady). I sat up, my spine as straight as ruler.

"As shady as you bugging Fury's control panel Mr. Stark?" I hissed in a violent whisper. Tony almost choked, swallowing thickly and sitting back with eyes wide as if he was suddenly seeing me in a new light.

"Touché, Ms. Crowe," he said with a chuckle, "Though technically, it isn't a bug per se." I frowned.

"What is it then?"

"Hmm, how about a trade," purred Tony, taking another candy bar from his pocket, "I tell you what you want to know about my little gadget and you spill the beans on you and the good Doctor, hmm?" Our gazes connected and for a full minute we behaved as children, each trying to stare the other down. Finally I sighed, what the hell did I have to lose anyway?

"Sure," I said finally, crossing my arms over my chest, "You first." Tony chuckled.

"Oh no you don't, I know how this game goes." He said with a smirk, "You go first." I raised an eyebrow.

"If you don't trust me to hold up my end of the bargain why should I trust you, Stark?" I asked dryly, watching as he unwrapped the top of the candy bar and holding my stomach to keep it from growling with want.

"I'm a textbook narcissist," shrugged Stark with a devilish grin, "Do you really think I'd pass up an opportunity to yet again prove the incompetence of a government institution and further cement my shocking brilliance?" I stared at him and he chuckled. "Plus, it's not like I've got anything to lose in this agreement."

I scowled. "Fine," I grumbled, "he's my old professor, you happy?" Tony's grin widened.

"A student teacher romance, huh? Kinky! I must say I find my respect for Banner has risen immensely, he always struck me as so bookish."

"Just my professor," I growled, face hot, "He's too professional to ever even consider anything that… that inappropriate." My tongue felt thick and cumbersome as I spoke, making my words fall on top of each other in a muddled mass. Tony took another bite of candy bar, chewing the more modest portion thoroughly before finally swallowing.

"So it's unrequited love is it?" he asked, rolling the wrapper further down the bar, "How poetic." My face burst into flames as my mouth sagged, my lips forming a gaping ring around my slack teeth. Tony noticed my expression and laughed. "Give me some credit here, babes, I'm a genius with an IQ way over 200, I think we'd have to be more concerned if I didn't figure it out. And besides, it's obvious. You wear your heart on your sleeve, not that that's a bad thing, it just makes it really easy to put two and two together. Also, if you want my two cents, I fail to see the ethical dilemma. It's not like you're eighteen anymore. Though I suppose that's coming from a man dating a woman who used to be his personal assistant."

"Really? What's she like?" I asked numbly, unable to really focus.

"Who? Pepper? She's a gem, my better half, really. Although it is rather hard to trump the incomparable Tony Stark…"I sank back with a shiver, solidly knocking my forehead against the glass in frustration.

"Yes, that always helps," chuckled Tony sarcastically, "Have you thought of telling him?" I narrowed my eyes at Tony.

"And when exactly would I have done that?" I snapped, "I haven't seen the man in three years!" Tony smiled.

"You could tell him now." I shook my head.

"I don't have the gumption," I muttered, my neck hot with shame. Tony took another bite of candy bar.

"Fi, en I ell im," (fine, then I'll tell him) Tony baited me. I glared at him, realizing that all of this teasing and prodding was in part to get as many different reactions out of me as possible. I was being treated like a lab rat.

"Leave it alone, Stark," I hissed coolly, "He's already in love with someone else." Even if she was now married to another man. I could see the thoughts flying behind his teasing eyes and frowned. "Whatever you're plotting, Stark, you'd better stop it right now. I mean it."

"I don't know what you're talking about," cooed Tony, an overly innocent smile on his lips. I shook my head and sighed.

"I'm done talking," I informed him, "Now it's your turn to tell me what exactly you put on Fury's control panel." Stark smiled.

"How well-versed are you with technology?"

"I recently got e-mail," I offered, teasing.

"Then I'll keep this simple," grumbled Stark, disappointment clear on his face, "It's essentially like a digital lock pick. As long as it's on there Jarvis will keep running codes until it gains access to the terminal, and then-"

"You'll have access to all of SHIELD's dirty laundry," I finished for him. There was the sound of impact and a splash.

"Are you telling me that you just hacked into a private government mainframe, Mr. Stark?" exclaimed Rogers, his expression appalled. Stark's nose wrinkled with distaste.

"Ah, yes. What brings you to the lab, all-american boy?" Rogers glared at Tony, standing straighter as if trying to intimidate Stark with his sheer size.

"I brought Sophie and Dr. Banner a coffee. I figured they'd need some sustenance," he answered, glancing down sadly at the coffee that now puddled on the lab floor.

"Brilliant idea, bringing open liquids into a room filled with millions of dollars worth of electrical equipment. Wish I'd thought of that," said Stark, his tongue practically dripping with sarcastic venom, "Though while we're on the topic, where's my coffee Captain?" Rogers practically glowered.

"I've only got two hands," he said flatly. Tony grinned.

"Excellent, you can put them to use cleaning the floor," he cheered, tossing a thin cloth at Rogers who stared at it incredulously.

"What am I supposed to do with this?" he asked irritably, shaking the flimsy cloth.

"Mop the floor," said Tony curtly, his expression clearly questioning if Rogers was a roll shy of a baker's dozen, "It's a hyper-dense super-absorbent polymer micro-weave. It will be able to handle a little puddle like that without problem, that computer over there is another story." Rogers and Stark glared at each other, both refusing to budge. Realizing that Rogers wouldn't be able to clean up the mess due to pride I grumbled, sliding to my feet.

"You're acting like children," I pointed out, snatching the small swatch of cloth from Rogers's fingers and getting down on my knees.

"See?" asked Tony, "At least someone is being sensible." I rolled my eyes and ran the small cloth over the steadily growing puddle, my eyes growing as round as sauced when the cloth sucked up everything it touched like a vacuum. I ran a finger over the now clean patch, astounded to find it completely dry.

"Your orders were to find the Tesseract Stark," growled Rogers, "But I come in here only to find you hacking our government's files and Banner missing."

"Leave him out of this," I snapped, earning a knowing look from Tony that made me grit my teeth and scrub the floor harder.

"Every minute you waste puts innocent lives at risk Stark," continued Rogers, taking an aggressive step forward, "What possible reason could you have for putting more people in danger? The body count is already over 100, does it really need to get any higher for you to understand how serious this situation is?"

"I am perfectly aware of how many people have died, Captain," snarled Tony coldly, his voice momentarily void of all of its usual charm and warmth, "I simply would like to know what those people have really died for. Don't you think it's strange? Stark Industries is the only major name in the clean energy market at the moment. Why would they only now choose to bring me on as a consultant? What are they really using the Tesseract for, hmm? Answer me that?" Stark's shoulders were shaking from the passion with which he had spoken and he leaned forward, locking his arms against the desk to stabilize his position. "Besides, all of the machines are scanning, there's nothing we can do at this point but wait."

Rogers looked for all the world like he had gotten slapped across the face with the flat side of a shovel blade. "And what do you think of all of this?" he asked me finally, glancing downwards.

I wiped up the last bit of coffee and crossed my legs, holding the not-yet-saturated cloth in my hands. "It's definitely… off," I said slowly, "And I certainly wouldn't put it past them to be keeping things from us. They do things for their own purposes and operate off the grid. I mean, just look at how they got me here. They had to knock me out with, I don't know, ketamine, and toss me on a plane. I mean, they even dressed me up, if that isn't sketchy I don't know what is." The two men stared at me, horrified.

"Are you serious?" asked Stark, mouth agape, "Does Banner know?" I shifted uncomfortably.

"Not in so many words," I shrugged, "But I was under the impression that the goal was to avoid having him go on a killing rampage." Rogers was silent for a moment, considering this.

"Oh come on!" cried Tony, throwing up his hands, "They're a covert faction of the government! They're probably up to their ears in bodies and secrets, why the hell wouldn't they lie to us? How can you possibly tell me that they're clean?" Rogers scowled, straightening his spine.

"Just do your job," he muttered, striding from the room in a cloud of unrest. My gaze followed him to the door before I tensed my muscles and stood, placing the cloth on the counter.

"And where do you think you're going?" asked Stark, annoyance coloring his tone. I smiled a bit, he was like a child.

"Cleaning up that mess made me realize that I really could use some caffeine so I'm going to head up to the mess. Can I get you one?" Tony smiled at my offer.

"Two creams, no sugar," he said taking some electronic device out of his pocket and beginning to fiddle with it, "And thanks, Sophie, you're a doll." I rolled my eyes.

"Whatever Stark," I said with a shake of my head, turning and walking out of the lab and down the brightly lit hall.


	12. Chapter 12

_**Posting early because tonight I've got a graduation party to attend. First off, I am going to apologize in advance. Spanish is spoken in this chapter. I don't know a word of Spanish (my second language is German) and hence resorted to Google translate which I know from experience is never correct. If you are a Spanish speaker, please do not be offended. And, even better, if you'd like to correct me I'd really appreciate it. Thanks to everyone who reviewed, gotta go!**_

The coffee, surprisingly enough, exceeded my expectations. The roast may have been a little dark, but the grinds were smooth and the texture of the beverage was like velvet. I filled two Styrofoam cups, one with two sugars and no cream, the other with one cream and two sugars, and secured lids on top, taking one in each hand as I exited the nearly deserted mess hall.

My footsteps, though I tried to tread lightly, were loud in the empty halls, and the rhythmic drumming paired with my terrible exhaustion caused my mind to wander.

_The night was warm, hot even though that's not uncommon for late June, and the air conditioning unit in my apartment had long had a note taped to it that read "Out of Order". It was unpleasant, to be sure, but I couldn't complain too much because I was able to rent it so cheaply. I had graduated from Culver almost two months ago. The whole thing had been bitter sweet, an end to an important chapter in my life. Banner had wanted me to apply to a graduate school program, specifically the intensive English and literature program at Culver itself, but I was rejected for the grant money necessary to participate._

_When you literally do not have a penny to your name, your options become very limited; I found myself having to choose between getting a job and taking out a loan to pay for furthering my education. And honestly, when the chips were on the table I couldn't justify putting myself tens and thousands of dollars in debt before I'd even started earning a steady salary. _

_So I'd made my goodbyes and moved to New York, taking on the position of assistant to one of the junior editors of __Jade__, a relatively popular magazine; Banner's graduation gift to me had been a small lump sum of cash and I'd used it to cover my first month's rent on an apartment in East Harlem. It wasn't a good neighborhood and it probably wasn't the wisest idea to be a female living alone but my hillbilly parents, bless their hearts, had sent me a shotgun and a crate of ammo for my twenty-first birthday. I'd grown up almost feral and had hunted with my family on a weekly basis so you can bet your ass I knew my way around a gun; and when it really comes down to it, people and wild animals aren't all that different. If they get shot, they die._

_The sound of a TV show turned on too loud soaked down into my apartment from the floor above, blending with the white noise generated by my fan. East Harlem, or Spanish Harlem or El Barrio take your pick, held the largest concentrated Hispanic population in New York City. This made things even more complicated for me as I was probably the only soul living in the projects who couldn't speak a word of Spanish. _

_I had gotten better than when I'd first moved in, however. A single mother of three living down the hall traded me language lessons in turn for watching her kids every once and a while; now I could almost hold a complete conversation, though my pronunciation was wonky. In my defense, it's really hard to speak Spanish with accented English as thick as mine._

_I took a sip from my bottle, shivering as perspiration from the frosty glass dripped over my fingers. The bite of hard lemonade tickled my nose as I gazed about my apartment, sighing heavily. A dim, incandescent light flickered overhead, offering just enough light to read by. The paper that covered the wall had probably been white and pink at one time, but had since faded to a sick yellow that had long since started to peel and tears at the edges; long mildewed strips were even starting to curl down from the corners, revealing the cheap concrete beneath. _

_I didn't have much furniture as most of my income went to purchasing professional wear for my job, which now hung in sealed plastic bags in my closet. On the floor to one side was a mattress with some sheets and a pillow; I had yet to buy a blanket since I didn't really need one right now anyway. There was a large wooden crate that I threw a blue and white checked table cloth over and paired with a couple of cheap plastic lawn chairs to make my dining room set, a rickety electric stove and refrigerator, and my laptop (part of my Culver scholarship) charging in one corner, but beyond that the one room flat was pretty much empty. _

_I sighed, setting my lemonade down on the crate and walking over to the trash can. I tied off the almost overflowing bag and hefted it over my shoulder, preparing to make the short trek to the dumpster outside the apartment project. I whistled tunelessly to myself, locking the door to my apartment behind me and stuffing the keys in my sports bra. _

_The fluorescent lighting flickered eerily in the must hall way, though the buzz of the bulbs was drowned out by the sound of the couple who lived next to me screaming at each other in unintelligible Spanish. I ignored them and jogged the four flights of stairs down to the ground floor, my flip-flops making loud clacking sounds as I went. _

_I almost laughed as I pushed open the heavy, reinforced and graffiti plastered doors to the street, finding it was actually cooler outside than it was in my own room. Not that that was saying much, it was still brutally hot. The foggy light of a street lamp lit my way as I clattered down the steps to street level, jumping when a car alarm went off down the street. Shrugging I hurried left, going down an alley beside the building. _

_The dumpster was huge with chipped grey-green paint and a nearly constant cloud of flies surrounding it. Gagging, I rushed forward and lifted the lid, almost fainting at the putrid stench that attacked my senses. I slung my bag of garbage on top and slammed the lid down, sagging with relief. It was time to go back up to my apartment and finish that lemonade. _

_I turned to exit the alley and stopped short, startled to find three men blocked my path. They were dressed roughly and were passing around a bottle of cheap liquor; the kind that can strip paint off of a car. One of the men, the tallest one, whispered something to his compatriots, setting off a chain reaction of chuckles that made my nerves stand on edge. I straightened my spine, desperate to not show weakness despite the terror building in my core, and moved towards them. _

"_Déjame pasar," (let me by) I ordered firmly, glaring the one closest to me. His dark hair fell unkempt in his eyes as he looked at his friends. _

"_Increible," (Unbelievable) he laughed raucously, "Habla español!" (She speaks Spanish!) The trio laughed, but showed no sign of moving aside to let me through. I licked my lips nervously and had to fight the urge to take a step back as I considered my options. I could scream, but it was unlikely that anyone was going to come to my aid, at least not in this neighborhood; I briefly considered running when I noticed a gun tucked into one of the men's belts, staring at me like a promise. This was serious. The group began to move towards me, one trying to slip behind me but I backtracked, sure to keep them in front of me even as we moved deeper into the dark and deserted alley._

"_Qu__é quieres?" (What do you want?) I asked, unable to keep the tremor from my tone as my eyes flew about, desperately looking for something I could use to defend myself. My gaze lingered on a broken coffeepot, a few long shards of sharp glass lingering in its rusted frame._

"_Cálmate!" (Calm down) rumbled the one to my right, rubbing his hands over his faded blue t-shirt, "Sólo nos queremos divertir un poquito__." (We just want to have a little fun) The tall one reached forward suddenly, trying to grab my arm, but I slapped him away, leaving bloody scratches on his skin._

"_Pinche puta!" (fucking whore) he cried, lifting the back of his hand to his mouth and nursing the wound._

"_No me toques!" (Don't touch me) I snapped, causing the other two to laugh. My heartbeat pulsed frantically in my chest, screaming for me to get away from these men. I looked far behind me and all I could see was a brick wall; there was nowhere to go. I lunged for the coffee pot, gripping a shard in my hands and whirling to face them. Blood trickled down my skin from where the glass cut into the flesh of my palm but I felt safer holding the crude weapon; though not by much. "Quédate ahí!" (Stay there) I growled at them, though I was sure my accent was making my words unintelligible._

_They laughed; The one holding the bottle of liquor dropped it and reached for me. I slashed blindly with my glass shard, cutting his face, but got caught by the tall one in the process. I screamed, struggling in his grasp, desperately trying to jab with the shard hoping to connect with something soft. He slapped my face hard enough that I saw stars while the third wrenched the rudimentary blade from my hand. My head lolled and I licked my lip, tasting blood, before screaming my head off, thrashing out with my fingers, clawing at my captor. _

_He hit me again and again, but still I fought him, kicking and screaming like a banshee, hoping to connect. My legs flew out, punching into the gut of the man whose face I'd cut, the gash itself deep enough that I could see bone. Growling with frustration the tall man slammed me into the brick wall behind me; the impact was jarring and pain exploded across my skull as bright white lights started to stain my vision. It was hard to move or speak, I felt distant from my limbs and mouth, and almost immediately my body went slack. _

_That moment of dissociation was enough; The tall man dropped me to the ground, the other two falling with me, holding down my arms and legs as I once again began to fight. I stared up at the tall man; He smiled at me and reached down, the sound of him unzipping his jeans almost deafening in my ears. My heart beat against my ribcage like a wild animal that wanted to get loose and I wanted to cry because of the paralytic fear that was gripping my body. But I didn't cry, or beg, my pride wouldn't let me; I simply glared at him, trying to put as much hatred and loathing into my expression as I could muster. _

"Tápale los ojos_," (cover her eyes) ordered the tall one, getting down on his knees and ripping the basketball shorts from my body, "Es bien pinche rara." (she's fucking weird). The one whose face I'd slashed pulled my t-shirt over my head, blocking out my sight, though I could still hear their breathing, heavy with anticipation. _

_Even though I already couldn't see, I shut my eyes, wanting to block out the three men, trying to barricade myself within my head, to dissociate myself from what was happening to me; what I couldn't stop from happening to me. Abruptly, I heard a growl. The sound was deep and feral like that of a stray dog defending its dinner, but loud; so loud that whatever creature made such a noise had to be big. I felt the tall man, who had been working my underwear down around my ankles, pause, his hands shaking in fear against my skin._

"_Qué chingados fue eso?" (what the fuck was that) he whispered frantically. The man holding down my right side shifted and the distinctive click of the safety being removed from the pistol made my stomach drop. Then I heard it again, closer, louder, and really pissed off. The three men surrounding me tensed, staying silent and unmoving, and I took the opportunity to scream my head off. That was until I felt the cold metal barrel of the gun pressed against the side of my head._

"_Cállate, Puta!" (shut up bitch) he hissed, beating the side of my head once with the gun for good measure. No one moved for what seemed like eternity but was probably really only a few minutes. I could hear tall guy laugh nervously._

"_Vamos a terminar esto," (let's finish this) he growled, splitting my knees with his calloused hands. I struggled as he roughly grabbed my thighs, pulling me closer, but with two fully grown men pinning me down there was nothing to be done. _

_That was, of course, until all three men froze in place. "Cabron!" (mother fucker) breathed the tall one. There was a terrible deafening roar, like that of a hundred lions rolled into one powerful sound that reverberated in my core and threatened to perforate my eardrums. The ground shook beneath me, as if something very heavy was approaching, and abruptly there was no longer any weight pinning down my left side. I could hear a man screaming, another roar, and the sound of bones crunching followed by a moist pop. I cringed as something wet spilled across my knees and caused the pair of men left alive to howl in fear._

"_Disparale!" (shoot it) shouted the tall man, "Disparale al la bestia!" (shoot the monster) The gun discharged once, as if the man couldn't believe his situation, and then again and again faster and faster. The creature roared, its footsteps thundering against the earth as it ran towards us. My rapists scrambled to their feet and ran, leaving me alone. I rolled to the side, plastering myself to the wall as something massive and warm stampeded past me, its mere presence making my bones tremble._

_The men started to scream, letting off more rounds of bullets. I struggled to my feet, yanking up my underwear pulling my t-shirt off of my head just in time to see one of the men's heads fly past me, followed by a leg and an arm. I stared at the dismembered limbs, still twitching as they clung vainly to life, and turned back to the shadows. I couldn't see anything, but I could hear tall man begging, pleading for his life before his cries were cut short by the squishy crunch of his body being crushed between the wall and the fist of something very big and very, very strong. _

_I stared wide-eyed, afraid to breath, and took a tentative step back, away from the shadows. There was a gruff exhalation of air from within the velvety blackness and a tremor as the beast to a step. And another step, and another. I started walking as fast as I could in reverse, unwilling to turn my back to whatever this thing was, my throat too dry from fear to scream. Abruptly I toppled over something and landed hard on my butt. I winced and looked about to find what had caused my tumble; the body of the man whose face I had slashed had tripped me, only now his body had been roughly torn in two._

_I kicked away his torso, struggling to lift myself from the pool of still warm blood to flee from the scene of horror, and had gotten to my feet when I noticed something: the tremors had stopped. Shaking, I swallowed thickly and slowly, slowly turned to face my savior and my executioner. I stared, wide-eyed, heart pounding, up at the massive being before me; for upon seeing it I immediately recognized it as humanoid._

_It must have been ten… no twelve feet tall and one and a half tons of pure, rippling muscle that bulged and strained on the hulking giant. But even more striking than his immense body and his ferocious strength was his skin; his flesh was viridian, a green so rich it reminded me of the grass on the football fields at Culver. It took another step towards me and I flinched, scrambling backwards._

"_Don't," it rumbled in a baritone so deep I almost couldn't understand it, "Please don't be afraid." I almost laughed; looking around at the carnage surround me how could one not be scared? But glancing back into the monster's face, I saw nothing but pain, and that made me straighten and face him._

"_Alright," I said eventually, finding my voice, "I'm not afraid." The creature smiled, revealing massive, tombstone white teeth that glinted in the dim light. The creature extended an immense arm to me, his hand open towards me, and without thinking I grasped it, wanting to soothe his hurt. His skin was warm and smooth against mine, though slick with gore. "Thank you," I said finally, unsure what else to do, kissing his palm._

_The creature shuddered and convulsed, falling to the ground with a great crash. I jumped back to avoid being squashed flat and watched, horrified, as the creature's bones broke and refitted themselves, his muscles shredded, his shoulders contracted, and the green slowly began to bleach from his skin. And when the process was finally over I was left with a normal human man lying prone in a pool of blood, a man I knew only too well, Bruce Banner._

_For a minute I was unable to move. I didn't understand what had just happened. I had been saved by a… by a hulk, which had then transformed into my college professor; I was too confused for words. But the distant sound of police sirens spurred me into action; if I was having trouble believing the situation, the police would think I was on some powerful shit and Bruce and I would both end up in jail._

_I collected my clothes and anything else that could tie me specifically to the crime, resolving to burn them later, and turned to Bruce. He was unconscious, so I squatted down, looping one of his arms around my shoulders and pulling him to his feet, wrapping my other arm around his waist to secure him to my side. _

_Thankfully Bruce was not a particularly large man, and I was a larger than average woman; I managed to smuggle him out of the alley, up the stairs and back to my apartment without being seen. Grunting with effort I laid him down in the bathtub, peeling off his torn pants and washing the blood from his fevered skin. "What in tarnation are ye doin' hur, Mister Banner?" I muttered to no one in particular, working the blood out from under his fingernails with a scrub brush._

_When he was satisfactorily clean I went and grabbed a pair of sweat pants and a t-shirt from my suitcase (I was living out of my suitcase since I couldn't afford a dresser), toweling Banner off quickly and dressing him. I tried not to handle him too long, but it was almost disturbing how good his skin felt against mine. Embarrassed, I laid him down on my mattress and returned to the bathroom to fix myself up. _

_I was bruised, really bruised, and there was a good sized egg forming on the side of my head where the man had hit me with a gun, but my only real wound was the self-inflicted gash in my hand. I was going to need stitches. Frowning I collected a glass, a candle, and a needle and thread from the main room, setting them down on the counter beside the sink. Reaching into the cabinet, I poured some rubbing alcohol into the glass, letting the string soak in the solution, before cleaning the area around my cut. _

_With one hand I sterilized the needle in the flame of the candle and with the other I grabbed my toothbrush, placing the handle between my teeth and clamping down on it hard. I worked quickly, threading the needle and poking it through my skin evenly and efficiently to close the wound; obviously it wasn't the first time I had given myself stitches. It was a good skill to have when you lived in a small town in the middle of nowhere, far from any doctor that was board certified._

_Carefully I snipped what was left of the thread, tossing it in the trash, and gently flexed my hand, satisfied with my handiwork. I took a quick shower, washing the blood of other men off of my thighs and arms, took a sleeping pill, and put on a tank top and some boxer shorts; I eased myself down onto the mattress next to Banner, rolling onto my side so that I could study him properly. He was soundly asleep, his chest rising and falling with each steady breath. _

_I bit my lip, debating, and in a rush of adrenaline I leaned forward, pressing my lips to his. His skin was warm, and the feeling of the gentle flesh of my lips touching his own tingled like every nerve ending in that area had been set on fire. Eventually I pulled back, stroking his stubbled cheek with gentle fingers. "Thank you, Bruce," I whispered, blushing, before falling back down beside him and slipping into a deep slumber._

**A HUGE thank you to Sirius-Black-SFan who corrected my atrocious Spanish. Literally my hero right now, no joke. Also, thanks to Nigotsumi. You guys are both such dears, I really appreciate your help!**


	13. Chapter 13

**Hey guys, life abruptly got busy. I'm still going to try to keep up my posting speed, but bear with me. Thanks to everyone who reviewed and helped me with my Spanish (I'll correct Chapter 12 to Puerto Rican slang ASAP), I really couldn't do it without you guys. Alright, enjoy!**

I shook my head, pulling myself from old memories and found to my horror that I had absolutely no idea where I was. I stopped, glancing around for some sort of familiar room or fixture, but could find none; I was stuck in Fury's maze of winding hallways. Sighing, I decided to do the logical thing and turn around to retrace my steps, but when tried to turn around I found my body glued in place. I frowned, telling my body to turn the other way, but my limbs wouldn't respond to the command, leaving me standing there like an idiot.

I attempted not to panic, testing out all possible directions, but it seemed the only way I could truly move was forward. Swallowing my fear and calming my rapidly beating heart, I decided to simply see where the path led me. After all, I really didn't have anything better to do. Like a puppet on a string I simply followed my legs, glancing about curiously to find clues as to where I was headed.

I strode deeper and deeper into what seemed like the bowels of the ship when, at long last, I turned a corner and came face to face with a massive, armored, solid steel door with a bio-seal lock. I swallowed thickly, unable to stop my approach, and watched in horror as the Agent on duty stood from her chair to stop me. "Hey, civilian," she growled, coming towards me, some sort of angry looking electronic device glowing on her wrist, "What the hell do you think you're doing down here? Stop!"

I was tempted to take a step back, but seeing as that was not an option, I simply forced myself to stand still. "Sorry," I said nervously, eying her weapon, "I got lost." I couldn't tell her that my feet were forcing me to come here; they'd think I was crazy and lock me up, never to see the light of day again. The woman frowned and didn't relax, taking another aggressive step forward.

"Well then turn yourself around and go back the way you came. Now!" she snarled at me, fear in her eyes.

"Uh… I'm afraid that's not possible," I said sincerely, trying to think of a good reason why that wouldn't be possible. As her eyes narrowed I found myself desperately wishing I had Tony's IQ; he'd be able to figure out some way to diffuse the situation.

"Look lady," she snarled, "I'm giving you to the count of three and then I'm zapping your sorry ass! One-" I tried to force myself to turn around but it was still as if I was wearing shoes of cement. "Two-" She advanced on me and I started to panic.

"Please don't!" I said quickly, "I want to move, but I can't. I really can't, I'm stuck." She sneered and kept moving towards me.

"Time's up," she cried, pulling back her arm in preparation to punch me full on in the face. I screwed my eyes shut, fully expecting a world of pain, and found myself actually surprised when nothing happened. I slowly cracked open one eye and was stunned to find the woman paused in mid punch, her weapon crackling inches from my nose, a blank look on her features. I watched, fascinated as she slowly straightened, walked over to the bio-lock, typed in the code, and leaned forward so that the panel could scan her iris.

The door slid silently open and the Agent returned to her chair, that same slack look on her face. I studied her for a moment, unsure of what had just happened, and jumped when she turned to face me.

"Don't keep me waiting, kitten," purred Loki's voice from the agent's lips, "I'm not a very patient man." My heart thudded in my chest. How was this even possible? My mind was whisked back to when I had last seen Loki and that cold feeling I had had, like something had entered my body; oh. That's how it was possible. I gritted my teeth and stepped through the doors which silently closed behind me. I was in a cavernous room, walled in solid steel, but the centerpiece was a massive cage suspended by clamps above what appeared like a hatch of some sort.

My lips twitched; that was clever of Fury; if the prisoner made any violent moves they go for a swim in the ocean below, which would be seriously inconvenient and hurt like hell even if it didn't kill you. I stepped further inside and caught sight of Loki, watching me with intense serpentine eyes from behind what must have been a few feet of solid glass. "Welcome, kitten, to my humble abode," he said with a chilly smile, gesturing to the room surrounding us. I scowled at him and his smile widened, revealing canines that were sharper than normal. "Please," he said with an elegant gesture, "Have a seat."

I gasped as my legs sped along one of the walkways that led to the cage, stopping a few feet away from the glass, and sat down, crossing themselves smoothly. "I don't like being controlled," I growled, setting the coffees down in front of me, surprised they hadn't spilled, "What the hell did you put inside me anyway?"

Loki's laugh was like winter. "So you noticed that did you? I wouldn't worry, it's just a bit of magic. It should wear off pretty soon." Loki glanced down at me, amused, and I glared at him. He enjoyed towering over me, being able to look down on such a tiny, insignificant human.

"What do you want, Loki?" I asked, taking a sip of coffee in an attempt to appear nonchalant.

"What do I want?" he repeated surprised, "Oh, I want many things, kitten, many great and fantastic things. But I am currently limited by my… situation, so I will settle for you." My eyes narrowed at him. "Oh!" he tutted, "Such anger! Such passion! Yet sadly misplaced. At the moment there's nothing you can do, so you might as well talk." I pressed my lips together, determined to not give him what he wanted. "Come now, kitten," he coaxed, "Aren't you curious? Don't you want to know what all of the fuss is about? Why your precious monster is being put in harm's way, hmm?"

I glared at him. "Leave him out of this, you bastard." Loki's lips twisted maliciously.

"How easy to read you are," he sneered, "How simple it is to see through you, to find your 'hot button'." I returned the sneer.

"Oh? And you're so evolved? You just want to monologue and gloat like every single fucking super villain with a god-complex that has come before you!" Loki's nostrils flared and his face whitened with rage.

"Insolent wench!" he thundered, his presence seeming to fill up the entire chamber, "How dare you compare me, a god, to the likes of some worthless, sniveling mortal men! You are vermin, cockroaches to be crushed under my heel! We are nothing alike!"

I eyed him coolly, taking another sip of coffee. "Let me know when you're done throwing a tantrum," I stated, "I refuse to argue with children." Loki's expression altered, deflating a bit before once again forming its shield of ice.

"How brave you are, kitten," he chuckled, "But I doubt you would have so much courage were you not protected by your lover's cage." I felt ice build up in my chest and choked, pounding my torso until I finally coughed and started breathing again.

"But we are separated," I rasped hoarsely, glaring, "And somehow I don't think it suits your purposes to kill me. Not yet anyway." I took another sip of coffee before swirling the liquid around the cup pensively. "I met your brother, Thor," I said slyly, watching as Loki flinched, "He seems rather impressive. It must be difficult, always living one step behind someone else, never able to compete-"

"He is nothing but a brainless mountain of muscle!" Loki raged, coming right up to the glass, "Only I am the rightful king of Asgard!" I ducked my head, hiding a smug smile. It wasn't that difficult to find his hot buttons either.

"I never said you weren't," I replied calmly, "I merely said it must be difficult. I was sympathizing." Loki stared at me for a moment, uncomprehending, and then grinned, throwing his head back and releasing a maniacal laugh.

"You're playing with fire, kitten," he hissed "Mind games won't work on me. I'm woefully out of your league!" I shrugged.

"You were the one who forced me to come here," I pointed out, "You've got no right to be picky about how I behave."

"Such arrogance!" mused Loki, his eyes alight with an interest that unnerved me, "When the chitauri come and I crush your pathetic planet and the human race falls before me, I will make sure that you bow the lowest, kitten."

"Even if my body bends," I stated with a restrained anger, "That does not mean that my will does." Loki grinned.

"Then. I. Will. Break. It." He said, biting out the words individually so that they had more impact. I repressed a shudder, wondering when his control over my body would end and I could get the hell out of here. "And you will not have to wait long, kitten. Oh no, the time will come soon enough when you will beg to kiss the soles of my boots."

I raised an eloquent brow. "As tempting as that sounds, I think I'll pass. Besides, I think you're overestimating what you can do considering you're in a giant block of glass and metal." Loki smiled at me like adults smile at naïve children.

"Ah, but you see, little kitten. I won't be in this cage for much longer. In fact," he paused considering, "I imagine I'll be free in a few minutes, half-an-hour at most."

The coffee cup froze against my lips. "What do you mean?" Loki studied my face for a moment, leaning down so that he was at my level, his silver eyes boring into my own.

"Oh kitten," he crooned, "You didn't think my 'friends' would leave me in here forever, did you? No, I came here of my own free will." My blood chilled as my eyes widened in realization. "That mindless drone Rogers and the vain Tony Stark never would have been able to capture me had I not allowed them to," he purred, pleased with himself, "And now I'm about to destroy SHIELD from the inside out, before they have the chance to become any more of a nuisance."

I licked my lips as if they were dry. "What- what are you going to do?" Loki laughed.

"Do?" he sneered, "Why I really don't have to do anything. It's SHIELD's own fault for bringing such a… volatile creature onboard." Bruce. I jumped to my feet, relieved to find that I was no longer bound in place, and sprinted towards the door, knocking the coffee over the edge in the little process.

"Run as fast as you can, little kitten!" Loki called after me, "But I'm afraid it's too late." He laughed deeply before finishing in a whisper, "I've already won."


	14. Chapter 14

**Hello all. Things are getting really busy (I'm graduating on Thursday. XD) As such I don't know how often I will be able to update. Please bear with me. I appreciate your understanding. Enjoy!**

By the time I finally found the lab again I was breathing hard, having sprinted around for ten minutes. "Come on!" I growled with frustration when the door didn't slide open as fast as I wanted it to. As soon as the space was big enough for me to squeeze through I stumbled through and found myself smack dab in the middle of chaos.

It seemed like in the time it had taken me to get coffee everyone, and I mean everyone, had piled into the laboratory and were now engaged in one, massive screaming match. I froze, my brain swirling with sensory overload. From what I could surmise SHIELD was planning on harnessing the energy of the Tesseract to fuel weapons, not that that really surprised me. But somehow the argument had degraded to the point that Rogers and Stark were at each other's throats and Romanoff looked about ready to take the both of them out. Thor and Fury were squabbling about god knows what, with Romanoff occasionally coming to Fury's aid, and Banner was in the background, a strange look on his face and Loki's staff grasped tightly in his hands.

I cringed, balling up my fists; they were acting like children. "Stop it," I said, but no one so much as glanced my way. Screwing my eyes shut I took a deep breath and opened my mouth wide. "WILL YOU ALL JUST SHUT UP?" My voice thundered throughout the room, stunning everyone into silence. "You're behaving like a bunch of animals," I scolded, "And there isn't time. If Loki's friends aren't here already they soon will be, and then we're in trouble." Fury regained himself first, composure returning to his stern features.

"What are you talking about, Ms. Crowe?" he asked, narrowing his one eye at me.

"Loki's men will be here in minutes," I warned him, "We have to prepare, set up defenses, something!"

"Even if they wanted to they couldn't find us," said Romanoff, crossing her arms, "We're off the grid right now, cloaked." I shook my head and she sneered. "Fine then, how'd they find us?"

"With that," I said, pointing to the staff in Banner's hands instinctively. Romanoff looked shaken but Fury still wasn't convinced.

"And how did you come to be privy to this sensitive information, Ms. Crowe?" I bit my lip, knowing how my answer was going to sound.

"He told me," I said desperately. Fury's face became cold.

"Loki. Told. You," he repeated very slowly, fixing me with a look that could kill. I glanced desperately over at Bruce who was quickly putting down the staff, a disturbed look on his features.

"Please, I know it sounds bad but you just have to believe me there isn't time!" Fury scowled at me.

"I do not know how you managed to get past the Agent on duty," he said with steel, "But it is not advisable for you to try to do so again, Ms. Crowe. Disobeying my orders will land you in a cell, and I don't think those Agents guarding you will be foolish enough to let you pass again." The reprimand stung and apparently acted as a dismissal and the room once again erupted into argument. This time Thor had taken up with Stark and the two were getting into a yelling match, Tony refusing to back down despite Thor's intimidating size. Fury and Romanoff started once again to try to reason with Rogers who was having none of it and, panicked, I hurried over to Bruce.

"Bruce, they aren't hearing to me!" I cried frantically, "You have to get them to list-" Something in his face cut me off and made my blood run cold. The tightness in his jaw did not mean good news for anyone onboard, but especially those in the room. "Hey, shhh," I said softly, soothingly, brushing a few stray locks of dark hair from his brow before taking his face in my hands, "Look at me." Bruce's eyes shot up to meet mine, stripes of green lightning swimming in their normally chocolatey depths. "I know they're loud," I said softly, "But you're okay, right darlin'? We're gonna be okay, jus' breath." I used my fingers to shield his ears, leaning forward to press my forehead to his, giving him something to anchor himself to. Bruce breathed in deeply, flaring his nostrils, before releasing the same breath much more slowly.

Warm air tickled my face, but I didn't move; he needed me to be his strength right now, and everyone needed him calm. His hands came upwards, gently gripping my wrists, hanging there and slowly squeezing and releasing, squeezing and releasing. I rubbed circles in his temples with my fingers, first small, then larger, and then small again until his pulse returned to normal and is heart rate slowed. "All better, hmm?" I asked smiling. Bruce was silent for a moment and abruptly his arms snaked around my waist, pulling me flush against him.

I blushed as he hugged me tightly, the softness of my body molding to the hard contours of his own. He was warm and strong, and as foolish as it was, in that moment I felt safe, like nothing could hurt me, not even the hulk. "Thank you," he muttered into my neck, his stubble tickling my delicate skin. I relaxed into his arms and hugged him back, never wanting to leave from that spot, feeling for all the world like it was where I was meant to be.

"Any time," I replied softly, wishing to whatever gods might be out there that the embrace was more than just platonic for him, because it certainly was for me. A gentle beeping from behind me made me realize how still the room had gotten.

"Just friends my ass," muttered Tony with a triumphant grin, causing a hectic blush to break out across my cheeks. The beeping grew louder and Banner extricated himself from me. Reluctantly I let him go, shivering at the cold void along my body whose space he had occupied moments before; I chucked softly to myself, I was like a junkie going through withdrawal.

"That's the scanner," explained Banner, crossing the lab to a large, white piece of hyper-advanced technology, "It means the sweep is done. It's found the Tesseract." I watched fascinated as Fury nearly leapt on Bruce like a pack of hyena leap on an animal carcass.

"Where, Dr. Banner?" he asked, his voice as tense as his body. Banner typed a few things on the keyboard, pushing his glasses up his nose as his eyes ran across the screen.

"That's impossible!" he muttered, but before anyone could ask what was impossible, the world erupted into a sea of smoke and fire.


	15. Chapter 15

**Flashback Chapter. Might be the last one for a little while (Things are super hectic) so please enjoy!**

_I heard a soft moan and looked up from my laptop, saving and closing the article that I was editing for my boss. I shut the computer and quickly pushed away from my crate table, moving towards the mattress with tentative steps. Banner had slept like the dead all morning, and after the events of last night it was hard to blame him. I was too scared to leave him alone so I called into work sick and only left the apartment briefly to pick up a few amenities he may need before coming straight back._

_I watched silently as he stretched and groaned, sitting up groggily and gripping his head. "Damn," he muttered hoarsely, "My head!" I smiled and crossed my arms._

"_I've got asp-i-rin, If'n yer'd like," I offered pleasantly, "Fraid I's te gen'ric brand though." Banner rubbed his eyes, squinting at me, startled._

"_Sophie, is that you?" he asked, clearly confused. I paused, frowning; it was possible he didn't remember anything from the night before, that he didn't know what he became._

"_Sure thang, Mister Banner," I said warmly, "I'd offer ye yer glasses but they got broke." Banner nodded distractedly, squinting around at his surroundings._

"_Where am I?" he asked, running his strong hands over the cream colored sheets._

"_Mah apartment," I answered simply, standing up to fill the kettle with water. Banner was aghast._

"_You __live__ here?"_

_I couldn't help but laugh. "Sure do, Mister Banner. Is all I kin afferd righ' now 'n it keeps me dry at night. Ain't much else I kin ask fer." Reaching in the cabinet I pulled out a large tin of instant coffee and ladled some into two mugs. "I'm assumin' yer gonna want coffee," I called over my shoulder, to which Bruce nodded absently._

_I set the kettle to boil and returned to the mattress, sitting cross-legged beside my patient. "Mister Banner," I said carefully, "Do ye 'member anythin' 'bout las' night 'tall?" Bruce moaned, clutching his head, and I rose, running to the bathroom to grab the aspirin. He nodded gratefully when I pressed the pills and a glass of water into his hand, knocking them back in one swift go before making a face. "Sorry," I apologized, a tad embarrassed, "The tap water's a little wonky 'm 'fraid. So, ye 'member nothing?"_

"_Only snatches," he said quietly, handing the glass back to me, "It's not a clear picture, and I've got no idea how I ended up in New York." Pausing, he studied me and his expression went black. "Sophie, where'd you get those bruises?" His tone was ferocious and yet tentative, as if he was afraid of what I would say. I bit my lip; Banner knew what was happening to himself, he simply hoped I didn't yet._

_A sharp knock on the door of my apartment summoned me from my seated position. "Lay down and pretend to be asleep," I mouthed to Banner before undoing the bolts on my door and stepping out into the hallway. The grim face of the NYPD greeted me, the rough man looking me over quickly._

"_Officer Corwin. May I come in Ma'am?" he asked politely and for a moment I was thrown; normally police were less than cordial to those of us who dwelled in the projects. I glanced down the hall and found other officers interrogating my neighbors. Shit._

"_Couldn' we talk 'ere?" I asked with a shy smile, "I jus' go'mma 'usband ter lie down 'n I hate ter wake 'im iffn e's nappin. He jus' works so hard ye know." The police officer frowned but nodded and I closed the door to my apartment quietly, glancing up with what I hoped were doe eyes at the man. "Now, what seems ter be te trouble, Off'cer?"_

"_Ma'am, I don't mean to startle you, but a triple homicide occurred in the alleyway next to this apartment complex last night." In turn, I acted duly startled, lifting a delicate hand to my mouth._

"_Goodness!" I gasped, purposely widening my eyes with horror, "How terr'ble!"_

"_I was wondering if you heard anything? Any information you can provide us with will be vital if we're going to catch the perp." His eyes studied me carefully and I did my best to not to appear duplicitous._

"_No, I'm 'fraid I kin't help ye Off'cer. Mah 'usband 'n I went ter bed earl'y las' nigh' n' I slep like a log! I didn' hear nothin'!" The man frowned, leaning closer to me and saying in a very quiet voice._

"_Ma'am, where'd you get those bruises?" My eyes widened, startled; this man thought I was being abused. _

"_I'm clumsy," I said with a false laugh, "I took a tumble down sum stairs a few days back." The officer smiled grimly._

"_Right," he said, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a scrap of paper and a pen, "Well, if you ever fall down the stairs again, be sure to give me a call." His eyes were serious as he handed me the slip of paper and I couldn't help but be touched by his concern. This was a good man. "Have a good day, ma'am," he said turning and heading over to his fellow officers._

"_Ye ter, Off'cer Corwin," I said softly, sliding back into my apartment. I was surprised to find Banner with ear pressed against the door, glancing up at me darkly. "What're ye doin'?" I asked bolting the door behind me._

"_You lied to him," said Banner almost accusingly, "I could hear it in your voice."_

"_I did," I confirmed, stepping past him to deal with the now steaming water kettle, "N' I feel bad 'bout it te. So stop bein' so judgment'l!" I poured the water into the mugs and Bruce followed me, standing uncomfortably close._

"_Why did you lie?" he asked, his voice intense. I bit my lip, trying to think of what to say as I set the kettle down again. "You were protecting me, weren't you?" he said with a quiet bitterness, "It was me, wasn't it? I had something to do with those homicides, didn't I?" I was silent for a moment, at a loss as to what I could say to heal the moment when Bruce slammed his fists into the table, knocking a couple glasses I had recently washed to the floor where they shattered. "God fucking damn it!" he growled._

_I stared at him; I had never heard Bruce raise his voice before, for any reason. "Hey!" I exclaimed softly, turning him to face me. I was startled by the vibrant neon green dancing in rings about his pupils but ignored them. "Ye saved me, Bruce," I said softly, taking his hands in my own and squeezing them tightly, "I was 'bout ter be gang-raped 'n ye pulled the bas-tards offa me. Where else d'ya thank I git so durn banged up? Thur 're plent o' thangs in life ter feel guilty 'bout, Mister Banner, but I kin't says I blame ye fer what ye did. Do ye git that? Ye saved me." My hands shook against his as I remembered the events of the previous night but I stored such emotions away. I could break down later, right now I had to be the strong one._

_I watched as the viridian flames slowly died in Banner's eyes and he was left empty, scared, and sad. As his shoulders started to sag I had a burst of intuition and grabbed him before he fell, his legs going out beneath him. Grunting with effort I moved us away from the glass and fell to the floor with him in a jumble. He was silent for a long time, staring blankly at a spider making its leisurely way up the wall and I simply sat with him, never letting go of his hand. "Was it quick?" he asked finally._

"_Very," I said sincerely, "Almost inst'nt. They didn' suffer." Leaning forward I cupped Bruce's stubbled cheek in my hand and turned it to face me. "Mister Banner," I said quietly, "What's happenin' ter ye?" Banner stared hard at the ground. _

"_Gamma," he replied simply, his voice hard. I stared at him sinking back, eyes wide._

"_Ye didn'," I whispered, "Mister Banner, tell me ye didn'! I said it was ter risky!"_

"_I didn't have a choice!" he snapped his eyes flaring green. I scowled at him, folding my arms across my chest._

"_That thur is a coward's answer," I stated flatly, "Truth is, Mister Banner, ye did have a choice, ye were jus' ter blinded by the promised glory n' yer desire ter please Missus Ross's daddy ter see it." Banner looked furious for a moment, like he wanted to crush my skull, but I didn't back down and eventually he covered his face in his hands._

"_You're right," he said softly, "It's my responsibility." He let loose a wretched sob that wiped the stern expression clean off my face and made me feel a little guilty. "What am I going to do?" he asked, despair splitting his voice like a raw nerve, "I'm a monster!" _

"_Mister Banner," I said softly, taking his face in my hands and wiping his tears away with my thumbs, "Ye're ter good a man ter ever be a monster, even iffn ye do turn inter the jolly green giant." Bruce buried his face in my fingers. _

"_I hurt her, Sophie," he said quietly, "I put Betty in the hospital. There's no redeeming myself from that." He started to cry in earnest and I ignored the vicious spike of jealousy that pierced my heart, pulling his torso forward so that he was cradled against my chest._

"_Shh," I murmured, rubbing soothing circles over his skin and rocking him slowly back and forth, "shh." I held him like that for over an hour while he wept, mourning what he had done, but mostly mourning the life he had lost. I knew that Bruce Banner, Professor of Physics at Culver University, was now dead to the world; Banner could never return to the life he had led. He was a wanted criminal now._

_When the shaking in his shoulders finally subsided he pulled away and I calmly wiping his cheeks and nose with the hem of my t-shirt. "Feel better?" I asked, lightly tapping his nose. He simply nodded, refusing to meet my gaze, and I realized he was embarrassed. I rolled my eyes, walking over to my hamper and peeling off my tear-soaked t-shirt. I dumped it in the basket and grabbed another shirt from my closet, throwing it on and walking back to clean up the glass shards covering my kitchen floor. _

"_Let me help," offered Banner, taking the dustpan while I swept. When we were done I noticed the untouched coffee cups and frowned; it was cold now. "I- I should probably leave soon." I glanced up at him sharply, frowning. "I'm only putting you in danger by being here, Sophie. Plus I doubt the General will leave me alone for long, he wants… he wants the other guy. As a weapon." His hands fisted on his thighs as I calmly poured the coffee into a skillet, turning on the stove top. _

"_Military types always do like dangerous toys," I murmured softly to myself before turning to face him. "The way I see it, Banner," I said boldly, "Is that yer gonna need some place ter lie low fer a while, thank up a plan. I kin offer ye that." Bruce studied me seriously._

"_Aren't you afraid?" he asked._

"_No," I answered immediately, causing him to laugh, though he quickly sobered._

"_You're serious," he said aghast, "Sophie, I'm more volatile than nitroglycerin! I'll probably kill you!"_

_I squeezed the bridge of my nose. "Well that's my risk ter take, now ain't it?" I snapped, startling him, "Mister Banner, ye've been mah support fer so long, ain't it time I supported ye?" Banner looked at me wide-eyed before his face finally softened into a smile._

_Bruce lived with me in that tiny little apartment for almost five months without incident before he decided it was time for him to leave. Not three days later the military came knocking on my door but by then it was too late; Banner was in the wind. _


	16. Chapter 16

**Hello all. Phew, the past few weeks have been really hectic but I'm an official high school graduate and hopefully things will calm down a bit as I start my summer! Rightio, sorry about the hiatus, let's get this show on the road. Enjoy my dears!**

With a roar my senses returned to me, my vision swimming back into clarity. The angry scream of alarms burned my ears as smoke seared my lungs and throat, causing me to cough violently. The next thing I was aware of was pain, lots of pain, at the back of my head, along my spine, but mostly across my hips. Above me a giant hole glared down, the sputtering lights of the laboratory dimly illuminating the hazy air.

In a rush I remembered the explosion and realized that the floor must have given out, taking me with it. I tried to move but found I couldn't budge and for a moment terror gripped me. Was I paralyzed? I lifted my head and was both relieved and distressed to find the reason for my limited motion was the presence of several steel support beams that had fallen across my lower body, miraculously not breaking any bones but successfully pinning me to the ground.

I heard a wracking cough and craned my neck, catching sight of Agent Romanoff's fiery hair. "Are you alright?" I called concerned. She coughed again before answering.

"I'm fine," she said hoarsely, "But my ankle's stuck. Are you hurt?" I chuckled.

"Nope, but I won't be getting up any time soon. Where are the others?"

"Best I can tell," she said, her voice strained, "We were the only ones that fell through." A terrible moaning interrupted her and my blood chilled.

"Agent Romanoff?" I asked, struggling with my restraints, "Agent Romanoff what's going on?" She was silent and I was going to call her name again when I just barely heard her whisper.

"Banner." Shit. I started to fight the beams in earnest, wriggling my hips and tugging at them with all my strength, but they refused to budge. I growled in frustration and could hear her trying to talk Bruce down.

"What's going on, Agent Romanoff?" I asked wildly, unable to see, "Has his skin started to turn green?"

"Yes," she answered after a while. I closed my eyes bitterly.

"Then it's too late to stave off the change," I said, trying to be as in control of the moment as I could be, "Work on freeing yourself." I could hear the wild moans and snarls of pain and the cracking of bone as Banner morphed, imagining in my head what Agent Romanoff was seeing up close and personal. "Agent-" And abruptly she was standing over me, analyzing my position. "Oh, good," I said with a weak smile.

"We have to move," she said urgently, her control fraying quickly. I shook my head.

"I already tried, I'm not going anywhere." She ignored me and tried to move the beams, going red from the effort. We were so focused that we didn't notice that the room had gone totally silent. Agent Romanoff's eyes widened as she took a step back from me, her lips shaking with a scream she was too terrified to release.

"Agent Romanoff," I whispered, frantic to get her attention, "Agent Romanoff!" I cursed when she didn't hear me; she was too horrified by Banner's change to pay attention to anything else. I frowned, trying to remember what I had heard Stark call her one time in passing. Ah, yes. "Natasha!"

Agent Romanoff turned to face me, her expression collected though I could see the terror boiling in her eyes. "Don't run," I ordered, trying to make her understand through her panic-induced stupor.

"What?" she asked incredulously.

"Look," I said, struggling with the sheet of metal that was pinning my pelvis to the floor, "I know that it sounds counterintuitive, but if you run you'll only give him a target. So please, stay where you are!" She looked at me, but the hard set of her jaw told me her decision was already made.

"I'll lead him away from here and come back for you later," she said simply, giving me what was meant to be a reassuring smile before sprinting away.

"NATASHA! NO!" I screamed, but my cries were drowned out by the hulk's enraged bellow. The roar was so loud that the ground shook and I had to cover my ears. The sound of carnage slowly lessened as Natasha lured Bruce farther and farther away from me and soon I was left in silence. "Shit," I muttered, tears of frustration pricking my eyes as I beat my fists uselessly against the steel beams until my knuckles bled, "shit, shit, shiT, SHIT, **SHIT**!" I screamed, falling back, wishing for all the world that I had Captain America's strength so I could free myself before they tried to kill Banner or, more likely, he killed someone.

Gritting my teeth I slapped my cheeks, this was no time to be wallowing in self-pity. "Can anyone hear me?" I called as loudly as I could, "Help! Please!" To conserve my voice I called out once loudly every other minute and after about ten minutes I heard footsteps. "Over here!" I cried, overjoyed, "I'm stuck!"

The footsteps grew louder and soon the figure came into view. I stared up in shock at the face that was smirking above me. "Gabe?" I asked, confused.

"The one and only," he chucked, "You seem to be in quite a pickle here, girlie." His smile was wide but had an edge that made me apprehensive. He paced around me, forcing me to crane my neck at impossible angles to keep him within my line of sight. "Now what to do about it," he murmured, squatting down beside me, "Decisions, decisions."

"Please," I said, urgently shoving against the bar, "Can you help me try to get this thing off?" Gabe sneered.

"So you do have manners; I was beginning to wonder." I stared at him as he rocked to his feet and continued to pace, clearly enjoying the power he had in my moment of helplessness. "Apologize to me," he said finally, "And agree to have dinner with me. Then we'll talk about getting you loose." I stared at him. Was he seriously playing that game at a time like this?

"There's nothing for me to apologize for," I said levelly, glaring at him. Gabe's smirk widened.

"I thought you'd say that," he said, turning, "I'll let you cool your head for a while. You'll come around." My eyes widened.

"You're not seriously just going to leave me like this, are you?" I cried incredulously, but he merely waved to me and disappeared around the corner.

"Bastard!" I muttered, falling back against the floor and throwing an arm over my eyes. When I concentrated I could vaguely hear the sounds of fighting in the distance punctuated by the occasional distinctive crack of a firearm. Maybe it was better that I sat this one out; surrounded by so many superheroes I'd probably only get in the way. After ten minutes of waiting I once again heard the familiar clomp of approaching feet, stopping a few feet from my head.

"That wasn't funny you know," I pointed out to Gabe, "I really thought you were just planning on leaving me here. Now, if you would be so kind can we please try to get this stupid thing off of me? I'm getting tired of just laying here."

"Oh, I don't know," purred a voice that ran like ice along my spine, "I'm rather enjoying the view. It's nice to have you… beneath me." My eyes bulged and I craned my neck, my nose bumping into a green and black leather boot before travelling upwards to meet silver eyes. "Don't you agree, kitten?" he purred with a saccharine smile. I blanched.

"Loki."


	17. Chapter 17

**Here you go my dears. Admittedly Loki is getting more psycho, but it just sort of seems to be the way his character is dragging me. I hope you enjoy.**

"In the flesh," he replied with a smirk, squatting down so that his face was closer to mine. My eyes widened when I saw that he had the Tesseract staff clutched loosely in his long, pale fingers. I took a large breath in preparation for a scream but Loki shook his head, pressing a finger to my lips. "Don't be naughty, kitten. I've already decided that I am going to have you and anyone who gets in my way will die. You don't want all that death weighing on your conscience; do you my pet?"

I stared at him, my mouth abruptly dry. "Why-"

"Why do I want you?" sneered Loki, gently cradling my face in his hands. He paused, his face slackening as his silver gaze grew pensive. "Now that is a good question…. One I currently lack an answer for. In the meantime, however, we've got a plane to catch and I'm afraid we're running a bit behind schedule." I rolled my eyes.

"As much as I'd love to join you," I grumbled, sarcasm dripping from my tone, "As you can see I'm a bit tied up at the moment and I won't be going anywhere." Loki's eyes danced down to the heavy metal bars that pinned my hips to the floor, his smile widening.

"That's easily remedied," he grinned, standing elegantly and brandishing his staff. I closed my eyes tightly, anticipating some sort of blast, but instead he merely used the staff as a lever, easing the bar up a few inches and then using his other hand to pull me out of harm's way. Of course this was a classic case of out of the frying pan and into the fire. "We'll have to get you out of the garments," he said after scanning me with a critical eye, "I'm not sure I entirely understand midgardian fashions, but I am sure I can find you something more appropriate."

I tugged my arm out of his grip and backed away, my eyes searching the room for a possible path of escape but finding Loki blocked the only viable exit. "I'm not going anywhere with you," I snapped, an edge of fear in my tone that made Loki laugh.

"It's cute really," he said, wiping a joyful tear from the corner of a silver eye, "That you think you have a choice." The staff glowed brightly and he advanced, a cruel lilt to his lips. "I am getting off this ship, kitten, and you are coming with me; with or without your consent. Though I'd prefer you agree to come peaceably. Won't you, my pet?" Before I could respond three men in black covert uniform rounded the corner, bowing stiffly to Loki.

"Lord Loki," spoke the man in front, a brief glance my way revealing shockingly blue irises, "We have to go." Nodding, Loki turned towards me, a hard set to his angular jaw. I tried to jump back but Loki was faster than I was, his fingers locking around my arm in a grip of iron.

"Move," he hissed, pushing me towards the hallway. When I attempted to hold my ground he twisted my arm behind my back so hard I almost cried out in pain but was prevented by the cool blade of his staff pressing into my neck. "Not a sound, kitten," he spat, "Not even a whisper. Now move!"

We moved at a rapid clip, just short of running, through the damaged halls. The ship was in chaos and the agents rushing about were too busy and panicked to notice our tightly formed group as we made our way towards the upper decks. I wanted to scream, to yell, to make someone (anyone) notice me, but the frigid metal cutting into my jugular kept me as silent as a tomb. We bobbed and wove around corners seemingly without end when the lead soldier came to an abrupt halt. Loki, who hadn't been prepared for the stop, knocked me into the soldier in front of me sharply enough that the staff-tip bit into my neck and I felt warm liquid wet my skin.

"Why aren't we moving?" he snapped at the soldier before looking down the hallway. The man in front of me was large enough that he blocked my view but whatever Loki saw made his features warp into a shark-like grin. "Why Agent Monroe!" he purred, snaking his arm that wasn't holding the Tesseract staff around my waist and pulling me flush against him, "What a pleasure!" The intimacy was unwelcome and the contact felt sterile and threatening, but at least I could see what was going on.

Agent Monroe was standing solidly in the middle of the hall, blocking our way. His shoulders were square and we found ourselves staring down the barrel of a standard issue p-229 Sig Sauer, which somehow managed to be more comforting than if he had been armed with some fancy newfangled weapon. "Meathead!" I breathed with relief, though it wasn't until he gave me a queer look that I realized I had spoken out loud.

"Are you alright Miss Crowe?" asked Agent Monroe, never taking his fierce gaze from Loki's amused face.

"Oh, she's just peachy," replied Loki, leaning his head down and in one slow, sensuous motion trailing his long pointed tongue up the stream of blood that seeped from my wound. When he reached the cut he kissed it, pulling away and grinning at me with bloodied lips. "Aren't you, kitten?" I shivered and Loki threw his head back, his laugh sending icicles over my skin. The soft click of Meathead taking the safety off of his weapon made him fall silent.

"Please stay calm, Miss Crowe," advised Agent Monroe, casting me what I belatedly realized was his attempt at a reassuring smile, "I'll get you out of this." Loki tutted.

"Bad idea, boy," he hissed, "I don't like it when people touch my things. Leave while I'm still in a good mood and you might get out of this alive." I could feel the energy building in the staff and my blood chilled.

"He's right," I managed shakily, "Just go, get out of here! I'll be fine." The protest seemed weak, even in my ears, but Meathead and I had never been on great terms. I expected him to bolt and wouldn't have blamed him if he had. Instead he fired a round into the ground to our right, making me cringe and Loki's eyes flash with anger.

"I brought you on this vessel," he said with authority, "And you are under SHIELD protection for as long as you are here. I'm not letting him take you anywhere, Miss Crowe, you have my word." Loki was silent for a moment.

"She may have your word, Agent Monroe," he said slowly, "But that doesn't mean that your word is worth anything. I'd be interested in seeing how a dead man plans on stopping me." Before anyone could make a sound of protest Loki whipped out the staff, sending a pulse of pure, furious energy hurtling towards Agent Monroe before I even had the chance to blink. The poor man didn't even have the time to consider jumping out of the way. He fell hard, leaving me to stare in horror at the gently smoking corpse that lay across our path like a felled tree.

"Well?" Loki asked the body expectantly, "Let's see then. Prove me wrong. What remarkable ace have you got tucked up your sleeve Agent Monroe?" He left my side, toeing the corpse distastefully with the toe of his boot. "I'm waiting." The body twitched, a muscle spasm only, and Loki sneered. "Is that the best you can do? I must say I find myself disappointed." Loki made as if to turn away and then spun back at the last moment. He wound his leg back and then snapped it forward, his foot connecting against Agent Monroe's skull with form to rival a professional soccer player. There was a sickening crack as his neck snapped and a horrible wet popping as the Asgardian's strength actually separated the dead man's head from his body.

It smashed into the opposing wall, leaving a great, splattering stain, before bouncing off, hitting the floor, and rolling to a stop at my feet; the bloated tongue lolling loosely from between ungainly lips. I stared at it for a moment, unable to speak, and then turned around, sprinting away. I got maybe twenty feet before Loki suddenly appeared in front of me. "I enjoy a good chase as much as any man, kitten," he purred, driving me back against the wall, "But unfortunately, we are tight for time."

I tried to press myself into the cold plastic, willing myself to disappear. "You decapitated him!" I whispered sharply, my heart beating like a rabbit's in my chest. Loki frowned.

"Obviously," he said with a sneer, "Don't be dull. Now come along." He reached for my arm and this time I dodged successfully. Loki's eyes narrowed. "Don't play games, kitten. With me as an opponent you've no hope of winning." I snarled, lashing out with raw emotion, leaving a series of bloodied scratches on his cheek. He chuckled and ran a finger lightly over them, the marks healing and vanishing beneath his touch. When his silver eyes once again met mine they had been overtaken by a wild, fiery look, too passionate to be mistaken: arousal.

"I like your spark, kitten," he growled, "But I grow weary of your defiance." Before I could make a sound the tip of his staff cut into the skin above my heart. Energy pulsed outwards from that point, slowly filling up my veins like molasses. The tingling sensation locked me out of control of my own body starting with the toes and working its way inwards until I could feel myself caged at the back of my mind, but couldn't remember exactly who I was supposed to be or how I got there. I stumbled, dazed, and Loki caught me, his breath cool in my ear. "Ready to go now, kitten?"

I smiled at him sweetly, my eyes glowing ethereally blue. "Of course, my lord. Your wish is my command."


	18. Chapter 18

**Here you go ladies and gents! (Although I'd be surprised if I have any male readers. If I do have any I'd love to know XD) This chapter's a bit fillery and had weird perspective, but it's a necessary transition. I hope y'all enjoy!**

Tony sighed heavily, falling stiffly into one of the hard backed chairs that surrounded the SHIELD table. His body hurt from being bashed around in that huge turbine, he was fighting off a splitting headache, and no matter how hard he tried to distract himself he couldn't seem to forget how Phil Coulson had looked as he was carried away, cold and lifeless, on a stretcher. He wasn't alone, the heavy atmosphere hung over the bridge like a cloud as men and women nursed their injured bodies and spirits.

Steve ran a hand over his face wearily, his fingers slicing through the short crop of neat hair that crowned his skull. He glanced over at Tony with mild concern. It was clear the man did not handle loss well, but something in the billionaire's manner made it clear that sympathy (at least his sympathy) was unwelcome. Rogers jerked a bit as something smacked wetly down on the table in front of him. He lifted his gaze only to find Fury staring coldly back at him. Rogers blanched; he hadn't heard a word the imposing commander had said.

Glancing back down at the table he found he didn't have to. With steady fingers he sifted through the pile of vintage trading cards stained with blood, Coulson's blood he realized belatedly. Rogers's finger closed about one of the captain America cards as he gritted his teeth, crushing the delicate paper to a pulp. "I hope you're proud," raged Fury quietly, "The world's last hope. Gone." Tony glared at the older man sullenly, feeling a brief spark of anger that was quickly eaten up by a stronger, darker emotion; sorrow.

The sound of doors sliding open was almost deafening on the nearly silent bridge and none of the men bothered to acknowledge Agent Romanoff as she strode forward, a little bruised but no worse for wear. "Sir," she saluted Fury, "Agent Barton is stable. He's sleeping now." Fury nodded.

"Good, when he wakes up see if there's anything he can tell us about Loki's plans." Romanoff saluted and was about to turn and leave when Fury stopped her. "Agent Romanoff…"

"Sir?"

"Please ask communications to contact Agent Coulson's family. It's best they know as quickly as possible." Romanoff nodded, then bit her lip.

"Sir, did we lose anyone else?" Fury nodded grimly.

"So far Coulson, Monroe, Haverty, Green, Fetter, Crump, Lincoln, Grey, Villafonte, the Morgans and Black have been confirmed as casualties. Though there are still many men and women as of yet unaccounted for, among them Thor and Dr. Banner." Tony sat up abruptly in his chair, as if he had been shocked.

"What about Sophie?" he asked, scanning their faces and getting angry when they didn't respond quickly enough, "Sophie Crowe! Crowe! You know, the girl you kidnapped. Curly hair, great rack, author. Has anyone seen her?" There was a moment of silence as Romanoff's eyes went wide.

"Shit."

The Agent took off at a sprint with Stark and Rogers close behind. She'd screwed up, big time, and the look of guilty panic etched into her normally composed features showed she knew it. All three were breathing hard when they finally careened around the corner and into the room below the lab. Sparks jumped from the naked wires jutting from the edges of the hole, but the trio's complete focus was directed towards the rubble. "Miss Crowe?" Romanoff called, desperate for an answer but receiving none, "Miss Crowe!"

"You left her buried under that?" growled Tony incredulously, his sharp gaze quickly searching for Sophie's corkscrew curls.

"She was fine when I left her," snapped Romanoff, her face hot with shame, "And I was being chased by two tons of green muscle at the time." And then as soon as she had gotten Banner off of her back she had run into Hawkeye and he had kept her distracted.

"Will you two cut it out and look?" muttered Rogers, the stress of the situation eating away his patience. Romanoff glared at Rogers but bit her lip, finally seeing a particular pile of debris she recognized. In one graceful almost feline leap Romanoff alighted atop the pile of broken beams, steel, and cement only to have her stomach drop.

"She's not here," she stated dully, shock coursing through her system.

"What do you mean 'she's not here', Agent Romanoff?" growled Tony, climbing up beside her with admittedly less finesse.

"I mean the last time I saw her she was pinned under those beams," said Romanoff stiffly, gesturing roughly at the scene before her, "And now she isn't there anymore." Tony pinched the bridge of his nose severely.

"How exactly did she manage to move, huh? For god's sake she's a normal woman, not some jacked up super-soldier like Rogers here. There's no way she could have lifted all of that, it's impossible, so what the hell happened to her?"

Romanoff's eyes flashed. "You're the genius Stark," she snarled heatedly, "You tell me."

Rogers, who had been watching the two from afar, caught sight of a young man standing in the hallway, an unsure expression on his face. "Excuse me," he called over, earning an annoyed look from both Stark and Romanoff, "But maybe he can help us." Rogers crossed over to the young man, whose handsome face looked a little ill, and offered him a firm smile. "What's your name son?" he asked gently. The man's mouth flopped silently open and closed like a fish's for a moment before Romanoff reached them and put him out of his misery.

"Name and rank, Agent," she snapped, her usual crisp tone returned in full force.

"G-gabe Sterns," answered the young man, clearly intimidated, "Pilot." Romanoff scowled, she hated SHIELD pilots; they were a cocky, bitchy bunch that in all seriousness was best avoided.

"Then report Agent Sterns. What do you know about the whereabouts of a Miss Sophie Crowe." When Gabe once again hesitated Natasha resisted the violent urge to slap him. "Speak!"

"I saw her," he said shakily, refusing to meet her intense gaze, "And she asked me to get her free."

"Did you?" asked Rogers, sharing a brief glance with Stark. Gabe shook his head sadly.

"No, I… I teased her and left her to… to cool her heels." Romanoff's tone was like steel.

"You simply left a civilian woman in danger. For fun." Her words held an implicit threat and Gabe went a white a sheet.

"You SHIELD agents really are the cream of the crop, aren't you?" muttered Stark, "Fury sure knows how to pick'em."

"I didn't leave!" Gabe protested, his voice quaking, "I just let her think I did. I was hidden over there the entire time." He pointed towards a particularly dense pile of debris with a conveniently human-sized hidey-hole. "It was just a joke," he pleaded, "But then he came. And he took her."

"Who took her?" prompted Rogers. Stark chuckled darkly.

"I think it's obvious at this point," he groaned, running a hand briskly through his dark hair, "Loki's got the girl." Romanoff and Rogers exchanged a serious glance.

"Is there anything else of value you can remember Agent Sterns?" barked Natasha sharply.

"Not re-"

"Then you are dismissed," she cut him off with a look so cold it made his blood freeze, "I will relay your actions to Commander Fury for consideration of punishment."

"I've got a better idea," said Stark with a snarky grin, "Just wait until Banner get's back. I'm sure ole Bruce would be simply dying to meet the man who let a psychotic immortal snatch his lady." Gabe's eyes went wide with terror and Natasha pointed towards the hall.

"Go, Agent Sterns," she snapped, "You are confined to your quarters until further notice." The trio watched as the young man fled down the hall before turning back to each other.

"What could Loki possibly want with Miss Sophie?" asked Rogers, "She's just a civilian."

"Leverage," answered Romanoff immediately, "With her captive Loki can in theory neutralize the threat of the hulk."

"It may be more than that," mused Stark, "The man's clearly an egomaniac."

"And you'd know all about that wouldn't you?" baited Rogers, but for once Stark took the high road.

"He's obsessed with this whole world domination, bow-before-me-o-puny-mortals shtick. It's possible that he sees her as a sort of personal challenge… though I hope it's not that."

"Why?" asked Rogers, still a bit confused.

"Because men assert their dominance over women in a very specific way," answered Romanoff quietly, her hands fisting at her sides, "And it never turns out well for the woman." The group was silent for a moment before Rogers punched the wall in frustration.

"We have to think of something!" he growled, "We can't just sit here and twiddle our thumbs while Loki's armada of aliens takes over the planet. Please, Stark, think!"

Tony rolled his eyes and then froze, a thought suddenly rolling across his mind. "What is it?" asked Romanoff, her face tense.

"It's just everything Loki's done so far has been so full of pageantry, so flamboyant… almost like a play. And for this final act… well he'll need the best stage he can find…" Stark's fist crashed into his waiting palm as the light bulb finally went off in his head. "Son of a bitch," said Tony, "I know where he is. The bastard's going to use Stark tower!" Tony took off at a sprint and Rogers nodded to Romanoff.

"We're going to need a plane. Can you fly?"

Romanoff shook her head. "No. But I know someone who can. And he just can't wait to put an arrow between Loki's eyes."


	19. Chapter 19

Bruce Banner was, by all counts, having a rotten day. He had woken up buck naked in an old airplane hangar, a huge hole in the roof from where he had apparently fallen through above him and an old man watching him convinced he was an extraterrestrial. The old geezer had been kind enough to spare the disoriented scientist whatever clothes he had in his back office (which turned out to be a worn out and ill-fitting brown suit from the seventies that had probably spent the duration of the past four decades drowning in mothballs) and a hundred dollars to get him where he needed to go.

Banner promised to try to pay the old man back but he just waved him off, muttering something about spaceships and intergalactic travel before trudging off to clean up the rubble left from Bruce's impact. The physicist trekked a little over five miles to a major road so he could hitchhike and managed to garner passage with a kindly chicken farmer. When Banner and the farmer finally had to part ways in a modestly sized Pennsylvania town the scientist reeked of old people and poultry.

Another mile or two of walking put Banner at Even Steven's Used Car Emporium. He had hoped to purchase some heavily discounted wheels but a hundred dollars simply didn't go the distance it used to, even when dealing with junk cars. There was, however, an ancient, rusted motorcycle (though it seemed a sin to even give the mechanical monstrosity a proper name) that Steven was more than happy to part with (for the fair and low, low price of sixty-five dollars).

Bruce really couldn't see another option and bought the bike. The thing really was pretty banged up and Bruce didn't really feel comfortable riding the rickety thing around at night, so he found a nice unoccupied bit of park bench next to a good natured homeless man named Fred and hunkered down for the night.

Sleep proved more elusive than normal and all through the night Bruce's mind raced while Fred snored gently beside him. He thought about the Tesseract, the attack, the Avengers Initiative, the Chitauri, Loki and the end of the world, but mostly his thoughts were tied to Sophie. His last image of her was right before the lab exploded, before his change, and no matter how he tried to sort through the hulk's convoluted memories he couldn't discern Sophie's fate. He didn't remember hurting her, but he hadn't remembered hurting Betty the first time he'd changed either. Sophie was too important; he couldn't leave her safety up to chance, and he could never forgive himself if he had indeed harmed a single curly hair on her hillbilly head.

As soon as dawn broke he was on the move, some cheap coffee and a donut from the local diner sitting like lead in his stomach. Though Bruce wasn't exactly sure where he should go, the stars he had seen from the lab window before the attack in comparison to the stars he had seen last night told him that the SHIELD air platform was (or at least had been) north of his current position. With that knowledge it was easy to set a heading and rumble onto the freeway. He had only been travelling for a little over an hour when he realized why Steven had been so keen on selling the bike. The gas mileage was atrocious and his five gallon fuel tank was already bone dry. Cursing quietly under his breath Bruce managed to steer into a gas station. The bike spluttered and spat, hissing and snarling like a wild animal anxious to have its rider off of its back.

He steered it towards a fuel pump but the piece of junk puttered to a stop and let loose one cracking bang before dying completely. Bruce sighed, blushing a bit from embarrassment, and dismounted, pushing the stupid hunk of metal the rest of the way to the pump. With deft fingers he unscrewed the cap of the fuel tank and inserted the nozzle. The smell of gas burned his nose as he crossed his arms, tapping his toe impatiently as he urged the tank to fill up faster.

A roar briefly caught his attention, drawing his eye to two flashy looking motorcycles pulling onto the lot. Bruce lightly kicked the wheel of his bike and watched as the whole frame shuddered; he was probably lucky it had even gotten him this far. The pump clicked and Bruce pulled the nozzle out of his bike before smoothly returning it to its hook. He screwed the cap back on and paused; he only had cash on him, he'd have to pay at the register.

Shoving his hands deep in the pockets of his baggy trousers, Banner moved swiftly towards the station building, ducking his head to avoid making unnecessary eye contact. The grating ding of the bell chiming as he entered the store made Bruce wince before making a beeline for the counter. He fought the urge to fidget as the man in front of him placed item after item on the counter and the gothic teen behind the counter rang them up with equal slowness.

Bruce forced himself to take a deep breath and glanced through the large glass storefront windows at the two bikers from earlier. They were a couple, he realized, and were currently engaged in some sort of argument that involved lots of sassy hand gestures on the part of the woman. Bruce was tempted to move a little closer so as to read their lips but a pissed off grunt of acknowledgement from Elvira Queen of the Night brought him back to reality.

"H-hi," breathed Banner, shuffling quickly up to the counter, "I'd like to pay for my gas." The girl glared at him, her icy blue contacts glowing luminously within a cage of kohl black eyeliner.

"That it?" she sneered, looking him over like a vulture eyes a carcass. Banner's stomach rumbled and he blushed, quickly snagging a bag of peanuts and handing it to her.

"These too, please." The young woman rolled her eyes and set about ringing him up with a pace so glacial he was sure it was deliberate. Banner stuffed his hands back in his pockets and glanced up at the TV that was mounted on the wall behind her. The set was old and the sound was broken, but what he saw sent chills up his spine. The breaking news story was of a strange blue light shooting from the top of Stark Tower, a blue light that only came from the energy emitted from the Tesseract.

"That can't be good," he muttered, the hackles on the back of his neck rising at the implications. He turned to the teen and slapped what was left of his money on the counter. "Here," he said, "Just take it." The young woman eyed the cash and frowned.

"That's too much," she stated slowly, clearly wondering how mentally challenged he must be to be that bad at math.

"Keep the extra," he offered quickly, grabbing his peanuts, "Think of it as a tip for your lovely service." Whether she caught his sarcasm or not didn't really matter because he was already on his way to the door. He brushed by the biker man on his way out, apologizing quickly before the impressively large man had a chance to take offence, and made his way to his motorcycle only to find the female biker lightly toeing his front tire with disdain. When she heard him approach she glanced up, tossing her long dark hair over her shoulder so that it didn't obscure any of the cleavage revealed by her low-cut shirt. Banner wasn't proud of looking, but he did, and to his surprise he found her rather lacking. He blushed a bit; it was hard to compare to Sophie's high standard, even if he shouldn't think of her in that way.

"I hate to be the one to tell you this handsome, but your bike's a piece of shit," said the woman with verve, shifting so that he could see the butterfly tramp stamp gracing her lower back. Bruce blinked and shook his head, pushing past her to check all of the bike's vital bits to ensure they wouldn't fall off en route.

"Yeah, I know," he muttered, tightening a bolt here and there. The woman leaned back against the pump, reaching into the pocket of a leather jacket that probably belonged to her boyfriend and pulling out a slightly crushed carton of Marlboro slims. She pulled a fag out with her teeth and held it between her red lips as she shook the carton at him.

"Cigarette?" she offered, waving the box in front of him as if to tempt him. Bruce shook his head distractedly, trying to focus on his bike in the hope it would make it up to NYC in one piece.

"No, ah, no, thank you. I don't smoke." The woman stowed the carton back in her jacket with a scowl.

"You're loss, toots," she shrugged pulling a lighter from her pocket and sparking the end of her fag before taking a deep drag and letting the smoke curl out from her nostrils. Bruce's nose wrinkled but he continued working. The woman frowned, annoyed, and elbowed him lightly in the side. "What's wrong baby cakes, you're acting awful distant? Biker chicks not your type?" She studied him carefully and them brightened as a Cheshire grin spread lazily across her features, "Or are you scared of Earl?" Earl was, presumably, the boyfriend.

Bruce rolled his eyes. "I can handle myself. Look, I don't mean to be rude, but could you go? I've got a lot on my mind and I'm really in a hurry." The woman eyed him critically and took another drag on her cigarette, shifting languidly against the pump before speaking.

"What's her name?" she asked, her voice husky and rich. Bruce frowned deeply.

"What's whose name?" he asked, though a certain hillbilly's face had already flashed across his mind.

"The girl who's got your hands all sweaty." Bruce scowled and self-consciously dried his palms vigorously on his trouser legs. The woman held up a hand. "You can nay-say all you want, hot stuff," reasoned the woman, straightening with an aggressive ease, "But you've got the look of a man on fire." Bruce stared at the woman for a moment, unsure of what to say, before she broke the silence with a surprisingly pleasant laugh. "Well what are you waiting for lover boy? Go and get your girl!"

Bruce doubted the woman would give him another opportunity to leave and quickly mounted the bike, inserting the rusted key into the ignition and flinched as the bike puttered and banged to life. "She better be something special," advised the woman, "If you're going to pass up on all this." She shook her hips and Bruce couldn't suppress a small chuckle.

"Bye," he said firmly, accelerating out of the gas station and back onto the highway heading for New York City. He wasn't incredibly keen on inserting himself into the action, there was too much risk because of his condition, but a knot in his gut told him that Sophie was sure to be in the thick of things. And this time he wasn't going to leave her behind.


	20. Chapter 20

**Okay, warning. This chapter is admittedly more mature than previous chapters. It's darker and more twisted and if you feel at all like you might be disturbed by it, please skip down to the bottom where I will post a brief summary for you. That's all.**

"There now, kitten," purred Loki from where he lounged on the couch, "Isn't that better?" My fingers ran over the gold and silver gilding on the armored bodice slowly, grazing the grooves with tentative fingers before slipping down to stroke the fur lined leather leggings. I felt embarrassed and uncomfortable.

After we had boarded a plane waiting for us on the upper decks of the SHIELD air base we had flown to an abandoned air field somewhere in New York state. A car was waiting for us and drove us all the way to New York City, more specifically the Stark Tower. Loki had shown his true power, finessing his way past the guards and security systems and allowing us access to the upper floors. For a time I helped Dr. Selvig assemble the Tesseract machine, but then my lord grew tired of being alone and I was more than willing to amuse him.

"I'm not sure," I murmured, embarrassed, "If this is really my style." Loki's eyes blazed and his cold smiled broadened.

"What nonsense!" he laughed, trailing his fingers along the silky leather of Tony Stark's couch, "You love it! Don't lie to yourself!"

Suddenly I couldn't remember what flaw I had found in the garment. Excitement bubbled in my chest as I traced the swooping neckline and the skin bared by geometric cut outs in the leather of the leggings. "Oh it's beautiful, my lord!" I crooned, stroking the gorgeous metal work with loving fingers, "I hardly deserve such a gift! You're spoiling me with something this lovely!"

Loki snorted. "Now you look more like a Valkyrie," he mused, gently rolling the shaft of the Tesseract Staff between his hands, "Give us a twirl." I nodded, eager to please my lord, and spun, my hair surrounding my face in a curly golden veil. Loki smirked. "Were you not so incredibly pathetic, mortal," he sniffed, eying me critically, "You might actually tempt me."

I felt my heart sink at his words. "If my condition so repulses you, my lord," I said desperately, grabbing a corkscrew from Stark's bar and holding it against the fragile skin of my throat, "Then allow me to take my own life, so that you will no longer be troubled by my presence." A fire started to burn at the back of my mind, like something was trying to break free, but I held firm, wanting nothing more to drive the corkscrew into my neck if it would please the Asgardian Prince.

"That is not necessary," sneered Loki, waving his hand dismissively, "I already have a plan for you, kitten." My fingers released and the corkscrew plummeted to the floor, shattering the blue glass handle. "Would you like to hear it?"

I dropped desperately to my knees, crawling towards him, the desire to know burning in my veins. I needed this knowledge more than I needed oxygen, water or food. "Please my lord," I whispered, practically salivating, "Please tell this unworthy soul."

"Kitten," he purred, leaning forward so that he could lift my chin with two delicate but impossibly strong fingers, "As long as it suits my purpose I am going to use you in any way that takes my fancy. And when I'm finished with you and that **beast's** spirit is completely broken I will peel off your skin layer by layer and feed your carcass to the Chitauri. Doesn't that sound exciting, kitten?"

I ignored the burning that pulsed at the back of my cranium and couldn't help the shudder of anticipation that ran through me. I could practically see it, Loki, blade in hand, slowly, intimately letting the edge of the knife kiss my skin. Blood, gushing rivers down my flayed limbs as Loki murmured sweet nothings with his silvered tongue as he tickled my innards. My pupils dilated with arousal and I moaned softly. Slowly, tantalizingly, I licked my lips, pleased when Loki could not look away. "Tell me more, my lord," I breathed huskily, crawling forward and running my hands up his calves before letting my fingers dance over his thighs.

"Harlot," he chuckled, swallowing roughly, "It's disgusting how eager the women of Midgard are, begging like whores on the street." He slapped me roughly, splitting my lip and causing to fall back with a cry. I stared up at him as he towered over me, a cruel light to his pale eyes. "I want you to beg kitten," he snarled, advancing on it, "Tell me how much you want it! Tell me how much you want me!" I stared at him a moment before moaning in pain.

The flames at the back of my skull erupted, spreading to the rest of my brain and offering me a window of clarity. "I-I don't," I managed to squeeze out between gritted teeth. Loki's face flushed with rage.

"You do!" he snarled, kicking me in the gut, "You love me! You can't live without me!" The fog tried to suppress the fire but it burned brighter than ever. I screamed, the clashing forces making my head feel like it was splitting in two.

"I think I kin manage ye clay-brained bum-bailey!" I snapped, searing pain making my vision go white. "Tarnation!" I swore, clawing at my temples desperate to relieve the pressure. Loki looked like he might explode with fury, his anger filling the room with the pulse of wild magic.

"Say you love me and only me, you filthy, ignorant quim!" he raged, summoning the staff to his hand and raising it threateningly above my head. The fire blazed and the fog billowed, twisting and swirling about my consciousness until I wasn't sure which way was up. I formed the only coherent word I could manage.

"BRUCE!" I shrieked at the top of my lungs, writhing against Stark's flawlessly polished hardwood floors.

"Wrong answer!" growled Loki wildly, driving the tip of the staff into my sternum. There was a shock of pain as the blade broke my skin, and then a wave of warmth washed over me, teasing my nerve endings but soothing away the pain. I stared at the staff and then up a Loki who was heavy from exertion. Gently, I pulled the tip from my chest, ignoring the slight discomfort as I stood and stroked my lover's face.

It was a beautiful face, the most perfect face created. My fingers searched his features, tracing his lips slowly, wondering how they would feel against mine. "I'll admit your mind is stronger than the others, but they all succumb in the end. Who do you love, kitten?" asked Loki with a subdued ferocity, his voice hoarse. I laughed, shaking my head.

"What makes you ask a silly question like that, my lord?" I whispered, reaching up to run my fingers through his ebony locks, "Who else could I possibly love but you?" Loki was silent for a moment, his lips twitching.

"Prove it." I launched myself forward, knocking him onto the couch and climbing on top of him. Our lips met in a clash of heat, moving violently against one another in a fevered dance. Loki's hands hated being idle and I moaned as they found my breasts eager for them to explore. Loki squeezed without warning and twisted send pain ricocheting through my chest.

"Not so rough," I protested between hurried kisses, to which Loki merely laughed.

"You like it rough, kitten," he panted, twisting my nipples more sharply. I pushed away from his chest, scratching at the pain in the back of my skull.

"No I really don't," I muttered. Loki grinned and squeezed harder, making me cry out in pain. "Stop! That hurts!" I cried, trying to break out of his grip but he was too strong.

"You like it!" he howled, reaching for the staff. Pleasure covered me in a wave and all I could do was moan. Loki grabbed me by the hair and yanked my head back sharply. "You enjoy this!"

"I do!" I whispered breathily as he nipped at the sensitive flesh on my breasts sharply, "Oh I do! More, my lord!" Loki chuckled darkly, biting down hard enough on my left breast to draw blood. I screamed in ecstasy, clutching his head tightly to my chest as my hips bucked against him, anxious for more intimate contact.

"Slut," he spat, excitement in his face as he pushed me back onto the couch and started to undo the lacing of my pants. I laughed breathlessly, my fingers fumbling with the complicated clasps on his jacket as I licked my lips in eager anticipation.

"Now that's just wrong," stated a voice whose rage boiled beneath a veneer of caustic humor, "Using my tower to open up a wormhole and summon an alien army that will take over the earth is one thing, but to use my pad to pick up chicks? And you don't even leave a tie on the door knob? I must admit I'm surprised at you. You're the Prince of Asgard, Loki! Show some decorum!" Loki and I turned our heads in unison to stare at the trim man that had entered the penthouse, making a b-line for the bar. "I'll tell you one thing. You'd better be planning on cleaning up afterwards," he pointed out, going behind the bar and unstoppering a bottle of scotch, "Those are custom-made."

Loki smirked, shoving me to the ground and grasping the staff as he stood. "I'm disappointed Stark," he purred, stepping on my hand as he walked towards his newest toy, "When exactly did you figure out that I had commandeered your… castle? An hour ago? Two?" he tutted with his tongue, turning his thin face this way and that. "And here I heard you were the bright human, Mr. Stark," sneered Loki arrogantly, "What a disappointment you've turned out to be."

**Summary:**

**Sophie is with Loki at Stark Tower. For whatever reason her mind is strong enough to fight (unsuccessfully) against the power of the Tesseract. Loki gets angry and uses the Tesseract's power to force her to 'love' him. Tony walks in and interrupts the pair at second base. The next chapter will open with Tony X Loki dialogue. And that's the chapter in a nutshell. **


	21. Chapter 21

**_Hey guys, sorry it's taken so long for me to update. Things have been pretty stressful IRL for personal reasons. I do plan to finish, and this is not the last chapter. Once again I apologize, please enjoy._**

**_-Goldiva_**

Tony regarded Loki over the rim of his scotch glass, taking a short sip of firewater, his expression amused. "Really?" he asked, leaning casually forward against the bar, "You're the one with the God of Thunder as an older brother to live up to and _I'm_ the disappointment? Methinks Odin might disagree with you on that one, you'll have to take it up with him when we send you back to Asgard in chains."

The vein bulged in Loki's neck and his pale skin flushed with fury, but before he could get any words out I was standing before him, my fists clenched and shaking in uncontrollable rage as I almost spat venom at Stark. "How **DARE** you?" I snarled, the desire to rip that stupid little beard from Tony's face with my bare teeth bursting into flaming life deep in my gut. "How dare you speak thus to Loki Laufeysson, Prince of Asgard, Conqueror of this pathetic planet known as Earth? He is your King! Kneel before his glory!"

Tony's eyes widened and he stepped around the bar, trying to get a closer look at my eyes. "Sophie?" he asked gently, reaching out with tentative fingers when my glare didn't lessen. "Damn," he said eventually, "That blue stuff really fucked you up in there, didn't it?" In response I swung at his head. All of my anger at his vulgarity channeled itself into sweet adrenaline and before I could even form the thought my hand was closing into a tightly balled fist. I could feel a strange, fiery energy running through me, directing my body on where to go, what to do. I used the momentum of my body, putting all the force I had into the strike. Tony never saw it coming.

There was a moment of orgasmic bliss as my fist connected with his face in a blow that would have impressed Mohammed Ali. I could feel his bone and teeth through the flesh of his cheek and winced as my knuckles cracked painfully, probably broken. I followed through effortlessly and Tony stumbled, catching himself against the bar. We stared at each other a moment, white hot rage glimmering in each of our eyes, before Tony looked sharply away, spitting a molar into his open palm and cursing loudly through a bloody mouth. For my part my hand felt like it was on fire and had begun to swell terribly, but this pain was eclipsed by the pure joy I felt at avenging my lord, my lover, my life.

A sound more beautiful than any other caught my attention and I listened, totally enraptured, as Loki laughed, actually doubling over in amusement. He had to use his staff for support and, when he was finally done, he straightened with effort, wiping moisture from his eyes. "You should have seen your expression, Stark," he said breathlessly, chuckling again at the sight of blood running down Tony's chin, "You were just so… surprised! It was priceless!"

"And you, my Valkyrie," he praised, moving forward with approving eyes, "You were divine." I felt my heart leap in expectation and held perfectly still as his face moved closer to mine, dying for the moment our lips met.

"I wouldn't if I were you," muttered Tony aggressively, wiping blood roughly from his face with the back of his hand, "That's one's Banner's, and the Hulk doesn't really understand the concept of sharing." Loki chuckled darkly, grabbing me tightly by the neck and pulling me close to his side, his fingers playing dangerously against my windpipe. It was all I could do not to moan with excitement.

"Do you honestly think," smirked Loki, "That a god would fear a witless beast." Tony met Loki's gaze unwaveringly.

"A smart one would. But again, that's why your brother sits on the throne of Asgard and you wallow in exile."

The Lord of Lies screamed in rage, hurling me unceremoniously to the floor and advancing towards Tony, cloaked in a dark cloud of blind anger. With one hand and superhuman strength he pinned Tony against the bar, and with the other he hefted his staff, a bright blue energy crackling at the tip. I felt a strange affinity with the energy, and inexplicable and inescapable draw that had me crawling on hands and knees towards the light like an alcoholic after a bottle of a particularly good vintage.

But like Icarus flying too close to the sun on wings of wax, moving towards the light was to be my undoing. Loki yanked his arm backwards, coiling up in preparation for piercing Tony Stark through the heart, and in the process smashed the butt of his staff into my skull. The result was instantaneous: everything went black.

Tony watched in horror as the Tesseract staff slammed into Sophie's skull. She went down like a stone, crumpling into pathetic pile of flaccid flesh. "No," was his simple whisper as his heart almost stopped. Sophie couldn't be dead, but she was. He had seen it with his own eyes. It would take someone very special to survive a temple strike of that force, and Sophie Crowe was and always had been a mere mortal. A tiny pawn caught unfairly in a game of gods.

Loki who apparently noticed the impact of his staff paused, glancing uncomprehendingly behind him. "What are you doing?" he snapped, kicking her prone corpse, "Get up!" Tony shoved Loki away from her body in a surge of anger.

"She's dead you moron," he growled, setting himself between the girl's dead body and the angry immortal. Loki stiffened, puffing up his chest at the affront.

"You will regret speaking so! I am a god!" Tony laughed, running a hand roughly through his hair.

"Maybe so, because your stupidity cannot be of this earth!" Tony's voice caught a bit at the end, shock still rippling though his frame. It had been so sudden… what could he have done? Anything? Loki snarled and lunged for Tony, but Stark danced out of the reach of his arms. "Bastard," he snarled, "You summon your goddamn alien armada. I'm going to nail every last one of you sons of bitches to the wall." With that Tony sprinted towards the window, crashing through the glass in a shower of brilliant splinters.

For a moment he hung in the cool air, suspended hundreds of feet above the streets of Manhattan, and then just as suddenly he began to plummet, hurtling towards the ground and rapidly accelerating.

"Sir," came Jarvis's polite tone in his ear, "Do you wish me to deploy?"

"Now would be a good time, Jarvis!" snarled Tony, attempting to slow his descent by holding his body spread eagle as he fell through the air. Wind cut through his clothes and made his blood surge in his ears, whipping over his body and chapping his skin. He could see the ground below him, the tiny ants of people slowly growing larger as he came closer and closer to his own demise.

And then he felt something solid and metallic slam into his back, speedily cinching about his waist. He heard the whirr of gears and felt the vibration of machinery as his portable suit latched onto his body, molding itself about his frame. He was only thirty feet away from becoming a human pancake when his suit finally completed its assembly and he activated his thrusters, shooting off from the ground and soaring into the sky. Tony couldn't be afraid though, his brain was too busy with other thoughts. How were they going to beat this alien horde? Was Pepper safe? Could the Tesseract be turned off? And somewhere in the back of his mind was a thought that made his stomach tie itself in knots: what was he going to tell Bruce Banner?


	22. Chapter 22

The chaos started miles outside of New York City. Cars crowded the road like rice in a sieve, jostling and honking at each other in their desperation to flee the city and the strange, glowing blue phenomena that had engulfed Stark tower and captured the entire world's eye. Thankfully the traffic going into Manhattan was non-existent and Bruce had a leisurely ride ahead of him. Leisurely only because his maximum speed was maybe forty miles per hour, and even that was pushing his luck a little.

He was anxious to arrive, not only to help the Avengers combat this otherworldly threat, but also just to get off this damn bike. The padding had long since worn off on the seat and quite frankly his crotch, butt, and the inside of his thighs were killing him. He'd be lucky if he could have kids after this. Not that he entertained the idea anymore. Sure he'd like to have a child or two, but the possibility of passing the 'other guy' onto his offspring was too great a risk for him to knowingly take.

Banner chuckled a bit, adjusting himself painfully as he clutched the violently trembling handlebars. It was funny how invariably when a human was denied something they desired it, a sort of forbidden fruit syndrome. Sophie brought that craving out in him every time she held his hand or laughed or smiled. She was a serious woman, not the kind of woman you fooled around with but the sort that mothered your children, cared for your hurts, and stayed by your side in sickness and in health until death you did part. '_And I,'_ thought Bruce pensively, _"I am a serious man."_

And one getting up in years. Truth be told if he hadn't had his accident he'd probably have married Betty and be living in academic and matrimonial bliss, teaching at Culver by day and playing daddy by night after he picked up their kid from day care. The thought seemed so impossibly domestic Bruce had to shake his head, the action causing the bike to swerve. After a moment of panic he righted himself and worked on calming his pulse. It would not be good if the other guy got loose before there was a ready supply of aliens to destroy.

The city of New York unfolded in front of him like an urban pop-up book. Smaller domestic buildings soon obscured his view of the skyline, but his he craned his neck upwards he could still make out the tip of Stark Tower and the spike of blue light piercing the sky like a hypodermic needle. People clogged up the sidewalks and in some places even spilled out into the streets, their necks craned at impossible angles as they stared up into the beyond.

Banner had hardly broken into the outskirts of New York City when a general cry of terror and desolation bubbled up from the crowd, seeping the strength from his arms and legs and making him want to simply curl up in a ball and wait for the carnage to be over. Instead he glanced skyward, scowling at the dark shapes (and glaringly larger worm-like shape) that had begun to pour through what appeared to be a massive gash in the sky. Banner stopped his bike. "Son of a bitch," he muttered to no one in particular, "They opened up a wormhole!"

Part of him wanted to admire the thing for the scientific anomaly that is was (after all how many humans throughout the entire history of humankind could say that they had, in person, seen a wormhole?), but the other part recognized that an alien invasion was taking place and somewhere in the heart of the city people he had come to consider friends were fighting for their lives.

With great effort (and a bit of technical ingenuity on his part) Banner managed to restart the bike and continue on his way. This was harder than previously because the streets had become entirely flooded with people, screaming and running for their lives as incredible alien hovercraft (yes, Banner did if nothing else appreciate their technology) sped soundlessly over head, occasionally letting loose some sort of energy bullet or letting a massive, muscular, humanoid creature drop to the ground and proceed to savage anyone or thing it could get its strangely fingered hands on.

Banner did his best to duck and weave, bobbing his way through the masses of panic-stricken New Yorkers. He was jostled and shoved, but managed to keep his seat, though only just. If a normal man fell he would surely be trampled to death; Banner only had to worry about turning green and killing a million innocent people. Well, as innocent as humans can be. Eventually he broke out into a major road. People had abandoned their cars, making the whole avenue a massive graveyard of silent steel sentinels.

Streets like these were easier to travel by. Banner could zip in between cars with relative ease and was able to cover more ground than he had previously. He let his ears guide him, moving towards the sounds of carnage and screaming. Everywhere around him was death and destruction, but Bruce kept his head down, trying to be as inconspicuous as possible until he found the Avengers. When he eventually started riding around Chitauri corpses rather than burned and bloody human remains he figured he was getting close.

Sure enough, as soon as he skirted an overturned school bus, the burned and mangled tiny figures inside making his heart leap into his throat and burn like it was in a steel vise, he found himself at a rather large and empty intersection. In the middle stood a woman in black leather, the natural red of her hair enhanced by the blood streaked through it. She was flanked by a powerful man clad in red, white and blue and armed with a shield, a man in SHIELD special forces attire with a bow, and a Norse God equipped with his hammer.

Bruce couldn't help but heave a sigh of relief when he did not see Sophie among them. She was probably back on the airship with Fury. He hoped she was back in the airship with Fury. It was at that moment that the engine started to die, as if the bike somehow sensed that its usefulness had come to an end. Bruce's whole body shook as the bike slowly puttered to a stop. When it came to a complete standstill some twenty feet from the group it let out one last dying bang from the exhaust pipe and resigned itself to obsolescence.

Carefully Bruce removed himself from the bike, kicking the kickstand out and gingerly stretching the stiff muscles in his legs. "Sorry I'm late," he called, deciding to try his hand at a joke despite the rather dire circumstances, "Traffic was terrible. The way people behave you'd think aliens were invading." The biggest response he got was a lip twitch on the part of Captain America, so Banner decided to leave the humor to Tony. He was much more suited to it anyway.

"What?" he asked finally, noticing that the entire group refused to meet his gaze, except of course for Rogers, whose blue eyes were molten with sympathy, "What happened?" His brain, both a blessing and at times a curse, assembled pieces of a puzzle he didn't want to solve, but had to. The answer was practically laying in front of him. "Where is Sophie?" he demanded, his voice threatening to break towards the end of her name.

The Avengers eyed him carefully, clearly debating whether or not keeping him informed was worth the potential damage, when Rogers, ever the noble one, stepped forward. Agent Romanoff growled at him, trying to snag Steve's arm, but he brushed her off coming forward and placing a firm, supportive hand on Bruce's shoulder. "I'm sorry Doc," he said gruffly, "But she's no longer with us."

Bruce blinked once, too stunned to process the information, and then slowly as reality began to sink in he found he felt cold. His insides were icy as if some unknown person had jabbed an IV of liquid nitrogen into his veins. She couldn't be dead. Not Sophie. Not his Sophie. "Did I-? Was it-? When I changed…" His voice sounded strange in his own ears, oddly hollow and disconnected, and his tone caused alarm to dance across the features of some of the Avengers, though Captain America remained calm.

"No, Doc, it wasn't you," he assured Banner, his tone as soothing as warm milk to a sleepless child. Bruce's dark gaze fixed itself upon Steve's, though his eyes seemed vacant and far away.

"Then who?"

Tony, who had just rounded the corner of a building and landed by the group, answered for Rogers, his voice filled with venom. "Loki," Stark said simply. And it was enough, enough to push Bruce over the edge of self-control and into the dizzying spiral of rage. A fire burst into life in Banner's gut, clawing its way up through his chest and crushing his hear before scorching a path out to his fingers and toes. Anger, grief and pain caused Bruce to fall to the ground screaming with fury, his skin a livid shade of jade shot through with bulging emerald veins. He vaguely heard Stark yell, "He's in the tower," before his pulse became a deafening roar in his ears and he reached up with hands too large to be his own to drown out the noise.

Panic bleached the faces of the Avengers, but for once not brought on by their companion's disturbing change. Behind him the immense flying Chitauri space beast had finally caught up, crashing through the corner of a skyscraper and bearing down on the group as if hungry for lunch. Bruce screamed in pain as his muscled shredded and healed and his bones broke and lengthened again and again. He could feel his heart beat growing more powerful, the consistent thundering thump making his spasming frame shudder with ever beat.

His control began to slip as he watched his forearm distort and grow, his companions becoming smaller and smaller as a dangerous green haze overtook his vision. More bones broke, this time the ribs, and again Banner screamed, this time the sound exiting his viridian lips as a thunderous roar that shattered windows and made people miles away quake in fear. And suddenly he wasn't Banner anymore. Bruce was lost, buried so deeply in a furious rage inspired by sorrow that he couldn't hope to dig himself out and all that was left was a terrifying monster with green skin and muscles that struck fear into the hearts of even the bravest of men. Some would even call it a hulk.

The Hulk took one look at the danger before him, at the hideous creature with razor sharp canines as large as he was and grinned nastily, gnashing his own immense white tombstone teeth.

The poor beast never stood a chance.


End file.
